Triumph, O Cethegus! Belisarius's former good fortune is fluttering over the pennons at our mast-heads: the gods themselves are blinding the Vandals; they are depriving them of their reason, consequently they must desire their destruction. Hermes is breaking the path for us, removing danger and obstacles from our way.
The Vandal fleet, the bugbear of our valiant warriors, is floating harmless away from Carthage toward the north; while we, with all sails set--the east wind is filling them merrily--are flying from Sicily over the blue flood westward to Carthage. We cut the rippling waves as if on a festal excursion. No foe, no spy, far or near, to oppose us or give warning of our approach to the threatened Vandals, on whom we shall fall like a meteor crashing from a clear sky.
That all this has come to the General's knowledge, and that he can make instant use of it, is due to Procopius, or--to speak more honestly--to blind chance, the capricious goddess Tyche. It seems to me, though I am no philosopher, that she rather than Nemesis guides the destinies of nations.
I wrote last that I was running about the streets of Syracuse, somewhat helplessly, not without being laughed at by the mockers, asking all the people whether no Vandals had been seen. One--this time it was a Gothic count named Totila, as handsome as he was insolent--had just answered, laughing and shrugging his shoulders: "Seek your enemies yourselves. I would far rather go with the Vandals to find and sink you." I was thinking how correctly this young Barbarian had perceived the advantage of his people and the folly of his Regent, when, vexed with the Goths, with myself, and most of all with Belisarius, I turned a street corner and almost ran against some one coming from the opposite direction. It was Hegelochus, my schoolmate from Cæsarea, who, I knew, had settled as a merchant, a speculator in grain, somewhere in Sicily, but I was ignorant in which city.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, after the first exchange of greetings.
"I?--I am only looking for a trifle," I answered rather irritably, for I already heard in imagination his jeering laugh. "I am searching everywhere for a hundred and fifty to two hundred Vandal war-ships. Do you happen to know where they are?"
"Certainly I do," he replied, without laughing. "They are lying in the harbor of Caralis in Sardinia."
"Omniscient grain-dealer," I cried, rigid with amazement, "where did you learn that?"
"In Carthage, which I left only three days ago," he said quietly.
Then the questioning began. And often as I squeezed the shrewd, sensible man like a sponge, a stream of news most important for us flowed out.
So we have nothing to fear for our fleet from the Vandal war vessels. The Barbarians as yet have no suspicion that we are advancing upon them. The flower of their army has gone on the dreaded galleys to Sardinia. Gelimer feels no anxiety for Carthage, or any other city on the coast. He is in Hermione, in the province of Byzacena, four days' journey from the sea. What can he be doing there, on the edge of the desert? We are, therefore, safe from every peril, and can land in Africa wherever wind, waves, and our own will may guide us.
During this conversation, and while I was constantly questioning him, I had wound my arm around my friend's neck, and now asked him to come to the harbor with me and look at my ship, which lay at anchor there. It was a very swift sailer of a new model. The merchant agreed. As soon as I had him safely on board, I drew my sword, cut the rope which moored us to the metal ring of the harbor mole, and ordered my sailors to take us swiftly to Caucana.
Hegelochus was startled; he scolded and threatened. But I soothed him, saying: "Forgive this abduction, my friend; it is absolutely necessary that Belisarius himself, not merely his legal adviser, should talk with and question you. He alone knows everything that is at stake. And I will not undertake the responsibility of having failed to inquire about some important point or of having misunderstood some answer. Some god who is angered against the Vandals has sent you to me; woe betide me if I do not profit by it. You must tell the General everything you have learned; you must accompany our ships, nay, guide them to Africa. This one involuntary voyage to Carthage will bring you richer profits from the royal treasures of the Vandals than sailing to and fro with wheat many hundred times. And the reward awaiting you in Heaven for your participation in the destruction of the heretics--I will not estimate."
He grinned, calmed down, then laughed. But the hero Belisarius smiled far more joyously when he saw before him the man "just from Carthage," and could question him to his heart's content. How he praised me for the accident of this meeting! The command to sail was given with the blast of the tuba. How the sails flew aloft! How proudly our galleys swept forward! Woe to thee, Vandalia! Woe to the lofty towers of Genseric's citadel!
* * * * *
The swift voyage continued past the islands of Gaulos and Melita, which divide the Adriatic from the Tyrrhenian Sea. At Melita the wind, as if ordered by Belisarius, grew still fresher,--a strong east-southeast gale which, on the following day, drove us upon the African coast at Caput Vada, five days' march from Carthage. That is, for a swift walker without baggage; we shall probably require a much longer time. Belisarius ordered the sails to be lowered, the anchors dropped, and summoned all the leaders of the troops to a council of war on his own ship. It was now to be decided whether we should disembark the troops and march against Carthage by land, or keep them on the fleet and conquer the capital from the sea. Opinions were very conflicting.
* * * * *
The decision has been reached; we shall march against Carthage by land. True, Archelaus, the Quæstor, protested, saying that we had no harbor for the ships without men, no fortress for the men without ships. Every storm might scatter them upon the open sea, or hurl them against the cliffs along the shore. He also called attention to the lack of water along the coast region, and the want of means to supply food. "Only let no one ask me, as quæstor, for anything to eat," he cried angrily. "A quæstor who has only the office, but no bread, cannot satisfy you with his position." He advised hastening by sea to Carthage, to occupy the harbor of Stagnum, which could hold the entire fleet, and was at that time entirely undefended; thence to rush from the ships upon the city, which could be taken at the first attack, if the King and his army were really four days' march from the coast.
But Belisarius said: "God has fulfilled our most ardent desire; He has permitted us to reach Africa without encountering the hostile fleet. Shall we now remain at sea, and perhaps yet meet those ships before which our men threaten to fly? As for the danger of tempests, it would be better to have the galleys lost when they are empty, than while filled with our troops. We have still the advantage of surprising the unprepared foe; every delay will enable them to make ready to meet us. Here we can land without fighting; elsewhere and later we must perhaps battle against the wind and the enemy. So I say, we will land here. Walls and ditches around the camp will supply the place of a fortress. And have no anxiety about stores: if we defeat the foe, we shall also capture his provisions." Thus spoke Belisarius. I thought that, as usual, his reasoning was weak, but his courage strong. The truth is, he always chooses the shortest way to the battle.
The council of war closed. Belisarius's will was carried out.
We brought the horses, weapons, baggage, and implements of war to land. About fourteen thousand soldiers and nineteen thousand sailors began to shovel, to dig, to drive stakes into the hot, dry sand; the General not only threw out the first spadeful, but, working uninterruptedly, the last. His perspiration abundantly bedewed the soil of Africa, and the men were so spurred by his example that they vied with each other valiantly. Before night closed in, the ditch, the wall, and the palisade were completed around the entire camp. Only one-fifth of the archers spent the night on the ships.
So far all was well. Our galleys still contained an ample store of provisions, thanks to the hospitality of the Ostrogoths in Sicily. These simpletons, by the learned Regent's command, almost gave us everything an army needs for man and horse (the troublesome Totila, who is no well-wisher of ours, was instantly recalled). In reply to our amazed questions, they answered, by the learned Cassiodorus's instructions: "You will pay us by avenging us upon the Vandals." Well, Justinian will reward them. I wonder if the scholar knows the fable of how the horse, because he hated the stag, carried the man upon his back and hunted the stag to death? The free animal had taken the man on his back for this ride only, but never again was he rid of his captor. But the water is giving out. What we have with us is scanty, foul, and putrid; and to march for days under the African sun with no water for men and beasts--how will it end?
* * * * *
I shall really soon believe that we are God's chosen favorites--we, the chaste-hearted warriors of Justinian the truthful and Theodora! Or have the Vandals and their King called down upon themselves the wrath of Heaven so heavily that miracles continually happen against these Barbarians and in our favor?
Yesterday evening we all, from the General to the camel, were in sore anxiety about water. To-day the slave Agnellus--he is a countryman of yours, O Cethegus, and the son of a fisherman from Stabiæ--brought to my tent whole amphoræ of the most delicious spring water, not only for drinking, but amply sufficient for bathing. With the last strokes of the spade our Herulians opened a large bubbling spring on the eastern edge of the camp--an unprecedented thing in the Byzacena province, between the sea and the "desert,"--so the people here call all the country southwest of the great road along which we are marching, and surely quite unjustly, for some of it is very fertile; yet it is old desert ground and often merges imperceptibly into the real wilderness. At any rate, this spring gushed forth for us from the surrounding dry sand. The stream of water is so abundant that men and animals can drink, boil, and bathe, pour out the foul water from the ships, and replace it with the best. I hastened to Belisarius and congratulated him, not only because of the actual usefulness of this discovery, but because it is an omen of victory. "Water gushes out of the wilderness for you. General," I exclaimed. "That means an effortless victory. You are the favorite of Heaven." He smiled. We always like to hear such things.
* * * * *
Belisarius commissioned me to compose an order to be read aloud at the departure of each body of troops.
A few dozen of our precious Huns dashed out into the country and seized some of the harvests just ripening in the fields, over which they became involved in a discussion with the Roman colonists. As the Huns, unfortunately, speak their Latin only with leather whips and lance-thrusts, there were several dead men after the conference,--of course only on the side of the wicked peasants, who would not let the horses of the Huns eat their fill of their best grain. Our beloved Huns cut off the heads of the men whom they had thus happily liberated from the Vandal yoke, hung them to their saddles, and brought them to the General for a dessert. Belisarius foamed with rage. He often foams; and when Belisarius lightens, Procopius must usually thunder.
So it was now. So I wrote a proclamation that we were the saviors, liberators, and benefactors of the provincials, and therefore would neither consider their best grain-fields as litter for our horses nor play ball with their heads. "In this case," I wrote convincingly, "such conduct is not only criminal, but extremely stupid. Our little body of troops could venture to land only because we expect that the inhabitants of the provinces will be hostile to the Vandals and helpful to us." But I appealed to our heroes still more impressively, addressing not their honor or their conscience, but their stomachs! "If ye die of hunger, O admirable men," I wrote, "the peasants will bring us nothing to eat. If ye kill them, the dead will sell you nothing more and the living almost less. You will drive the provincials to be the allies of the Vandals--to say nothing of God and His opinion of you, which is already somewhat clouded. So spare the people, at least for the present, or they will discover too early that Belisarius's Huns are worse than Gelimer's Vandals. When the Emperor's tax-officers once rule the land, then, dear descendants of Attila, you will no longer need to impose any constraint upon yourselves; then the 'liberated' will have already learned to estimate their freedom. You cannot go as far as Justinian's tax-collectors, beloved Huns and robbers." The proclamation was of that purport, only dressed in somewhat fairer words. We are marching forward. No sign of the Barbarians. Where are they hiding? Where is this King of the Vandals dreaming? If he does not wake soon, he will find himself without a kingdom.
* * * * *
We were still marching on. One piece of good fortune follows another.
A day's march westward from our landing place at Caput Vada on the road to Carthage near the sea, is the city of Syllektum. The ancient walls, it is true, had been torn down since the reign of Genseric, but the inhabitants, to repel the attacks of the Moors, had again put nearly the whole city in a state of defence. Belisarius sent Borais, one of his bodyguard, with several shield-bearers, to venture a reconnoissance. It was entirely successful. After nightfall the men stole to the entrances (they could not be called gates, only openings of streets), but found them barricaded and guarded. They spent the night quietly in the ditch of the old fortifications, for there might still be Vandals in the city. In the morning peasants from the surrounding country came driving up in carts with racks: it was market day. Our men threatened the terrified rustics with death if they uttered a word, and forced the drivers to conceal them under the tilts. The watchmen of Syllektum removed the barricades to admit the wagons. Then our soldiers jumped down, took possession of the city without a sword-stroke. There was not a Vandal in it. We occupied the Curia and the Forum; we summoned the Catholic Bishop and the noblest inhabitants of Syllektum,--they are remarkably stupid people,--and told them that they were now free; happy also, for they were the subjects of Justinian. At the same time, with swords drawn, our men asked for breakfast. The Senators of Syllektum gave Borais the keys of their city, but unfortunately the gates for them were missing; the Vandals or Moors had burned them long ago. The Bishop entertained them in the porch of the basilica. Borais said the wine was very good. At the end of the repast, the Bishop blessed Borais, and asked him to restore the true, pure faith quickly. The warrior, a Hun, is unfortunately a pagan; so he had little comprehension of what was expected of him. But he repeated to me several times that the wine was excellent. So we have already saved one city in Africa. In the evening we all marched through. Belisarius enjoined the most rigid discipline. Unfortunately, a large number of houses burst into flames.
* * * * *
Beyond Syllektum we again made a lucky capture. The chief official of the whole Vandal mail service, a Roman, had been sent out from Carthage by the King several days before with all his horses, numerous wagons, and many slaves, to carry the sovereign's commands in all directions through his empire. On his way to the east he had heard of our landing, and he sought us out with everything he still had in his possession. All the letters, all the secret messages of the Vandals, are in the hands of Belisarius--a whole basket of them, which I must read.
It really seems as if an angel of the Lord had led us into the writing-room and the council hall of the Asdings. Verus, the Archdeacon of the Arians, dictated most of the letters. But we were thoroughly deceived in this priest. Theodora believed him to be her tool, yet he has become Gelimer's chancellor. Strange that these secrets were intrusted to a Roman for conveyance and protection, not to a Vandal. Besides, must not Verus have known how near we were, when he sent the papers, unguarded, directly to us.
True, the most important thing for us to know,--namely, where the King and his army are at present,--does not appear in these letters, which were written a week ago. Yet we learn from them at last what induced him to remain so far from Carthage and the coast, on the edge of the desert and within it. He has made contracts with many Moorish tribes, and been promised thousands of foot-soldiers--almost equal in number to our whole army. These Moorish auxiliaries are gathering in Numidia, in the plain of Bulla. That is far, far west of Carthage, near the border of the wilderness. Could the Vandal intend to abandon his capital and all the tract of country for such a distance, without striking a single blow, and await us there, at Bulla?
Belisarius--what a trick of chance!--is now sending to Gelimer by the Vandal mail system Justinian's declaration of war, and despatching in every direction to the Vandal nobles, army leaders, and officials an invitation to abandon Gelimer. The summons is well worded (I composed it myself): "I am not waging war with the Vandals, nor do I break the compact of perpetual peace concluded with Genseric. We desire only to overthrow your Tyrant, who has broken the law and imprisoned your rightful King. Therefore help us! Shake off the yoke of such shameless despotism, that you may enjoy liberty and the prosperity we are bringing you. We call upon God to witness our sincerity."
Postscript, added after the close of the war: "Strange, yet it is certainly noble. This appeal did not win a single Vandal to our side during the entire campaign. These Germans have become enfeebled. But there was not evenonetraitor among them!"
Many days' march westward from the road which the Byzantines were following toward Carthage, and a considerable distance south of Mount Auras, the extreme limit of the Vandal kingdom in Africa, lay a small oasis. It was within the sandy desert which extended southward into the unknown interior of the hot portion of the globe. A spring of drinkable water, a few date-palms in the circle around it, and, beneath their shade, a patch of turf of salt grass, affording sufficient fodder for the camels--that was all. The ground in the neighborhood was flat, except that here and there rose waves of the yellow, loose, hot sand swept together by the wind. Nowhere appeared shrub, bush, or hillock; as far as the eye could rove in the brightest light of day, it found no resting-place till, wearied by the quest, it sought some point close at hand.
But it was night now, and wonderfully, indescribably magnificent was the silent solitude. Over the whole expanse of the heavens the stars were glittering in countless multitudes with a brilliancy which they show only to the sons of the desert. It is easy to understand that deity first appeared to the Moors in the form of the stars. In them they worshipped the radiant, beneficent forces which contrasted benignly with the desert's scorching heat, the desert's storms. From the course, position, and shining of the stars, they augured the will of the gods and their own future.
Around the spring were pitched the low goatskin tents of the nomad Moors, only half a dozen of them, for the whole tribe had not gathered. The faithful camels, carefully tethered by the feet among the tent ropes, and covered with blankets to protect them from the stings of the flies, were lying in the deep sand with their long necks outstretched. In the centre of the little encampment were the noble racers, the battle stallions, and the brood mares, confined in a circle made with ropes and lances thrust into the sand. On the round top of one of the tents towered a long spear, from whose point hung a lion's skin; for this was the shelter of the chief.
The night wind, which blew refreshingly from the distant sea in the northeast, played with the mane of the dead king of the wilderness, sometimes tossing the skin of the huge paw, sometimes the tuft of hair at the end of the tail. Fantastic shadows fell on the light sandy soil; for though the moon was not in the sky, the stars shone bright. A deep, solemn stillness reigned. Every living creature seemed buried in sleep. Four huge fires, one at each of the four points of the compass, were blazing, a bow-shot from the tents, to frighten the wild beasts from the flocks; from them arose at long intervals the only sound that broke the stillness; namely, the cry of some shepherd who thus kept himself awake and warned his companions to be watchful. This solemn silence continued for a long, long time.
At last a couple of stallions neighed, a weapon clanked outside from the direction of the fires, and directly thereafter a light, almost inaudible footstep came toward the centre of the camp,--toward the "Lion Tent." Suddenly it paused; a slender young man stooped to the ground before the entrance.
"What? Are you lying in front of the tent, grandfather?" he asked in astonishment. "Are you asleep?"
"I was watching," a low voice answered.
"I should have ventured to rouse you. There is a fateful star in the heavens. I saw it appear when I was keeping the eastern fire-watch. As soon as I was relieved, I hastened to you. The gods are sending a warning! But youth does not understand their signs; you do, wise ancestor. Look yonder, to the right--the right of the last palm. Don't you see it?"
"I saw it long ago. I have expected the sign for many nights, ay, for years."
Awe and a slight sense of fear thrilled the youth. "For years? You knew what would happen in the heavens? You are very wise, O Cabaon."
"Not I. My grandfather told my father, and he repeated the marvel to me. It was more than a hundred years ago. The fair-faced strangers came from the North across the sea in many ships, led by that King of terrors with whose name our women still silence unruly children."
"Genseric!" said the youth, softly; his tone expressed both hate and horror.
"At that time, from the same direction as the ships, a terrible star mounted into the heavens--blood-red, like a flaming scourge with many hundred thongs; it swung menacingly over our country and people. And my grandfather, after he had seen the terrible war-king in the harbor of Tsocium, said to my father and to our tribe: 'Unfasten the camels! Bridle the noble racers, and set forth. Go southward, into the scorching bosom of the protecting Mother! This King of Battles and his war-loving nation are what the terrible star announced. For many, many years, and tens of years, all who oppose them will be lost; the armies of Rome and the galleys of Constantinople will be swept away by these giants from the North, like the clouds which seek to oppose the star.' And so it came to pass. The sons of our tribe, though they would far rather have discharged their long arrows at the fair-haired giants, obeyed the old man's counsel, and we escaped into the sheltering desert. Bonifacius, the Roman General, fell. Our ancestor had foretold it in the prophetic saying: 'G will destroy B. But,' he added, 'some day, after more than a hundred years, a star will rise in the east, and then B will overthrow G. Other tribes of our race who, with the imperial troops, tried to resist the invaders, were mowed down like them by Genseric, the son of darkness. And when they came howling to our tents, raising the death-wail, and summoned us to a war of vengeance, my grandfather and afterwards my father refused, saying: 'Not yet! They cannot yet be conquered. More than two or three generations of men will pass, and no one will be able to stand before the giants from the North, neither the Romans by sea, nor we sons of the desert. But the children of the North cannot remain permanently in the land of the sun! Many of those who came to our native country to conquer and rule us, mightier warriors than we, have vanquished us, but not this land, this sun, these deserts. Sand and sun and luxurious idleness have lessened the strength of the strangers' arms, the might of their will. So will also fare these tall, blue-eyed giants. The vigor will leave their bodies, and the lust for battle their souls. And then--then we will again wrest from them the heritage of our ancestors.' So it was predicted, so it has been.
"For tens of years our archers, our spearmen could not withstand the fierce foes; then their strength decayed, and we often drove them back when they entered the sacred desert. When, some day, a star like this returns, my ancestor declared, the reign of the strangers will be over. Take heed whence a scourge-like star comes again; for from that direction will come the foe that will hew down the yellow-haired men. The star to-night came from the east; and from the east will come the conquerors of Genseric's people!
"We have news that the Emperor has made war upon the Vandals, that his army has landed in the far East! But it does not agree--the other sign! G doubtless means Gelimer, the fair-haired King. But the Emperor of the Romans is J, Justinian. Speak, have you chanced to hear the name of the Roman. General?"
"Belisarius."
The old man started up. "And B will overthrow G,--Belisarius will vanquish Gelimer! Look, how blood-red the scourge-like star is shining! That means bloody battles. But we, son of my son, we will not interpose when Roman sword and Vandal spear are clashing against each other. The conflict may easily extend as far as the Auras Mountain; we will plunge deeper into the wilderness. Let the aliens fight and destroy one another. The Roman eagle, too, will not long have its eyrie here. The star of misfortune will rise for them as well as for these tall sea-kings. The intruders come--and pass away; we, the sons of the country, will remain. Like the sand of our deserts we wander before the wind, but we shall not pass away; we always return. The land of the sun belongs to the sons of the sun. And, as the sand of the desert covers and buries the proud stone buildings of the Romans, so shall we, ever returning, bury the alien life which forces itself into our country, where it can never thrive. We retire--but we return."
"Yet the fair King has obtained ten thousand of our men for the war. What must they do?"
"Give back the money; leave the Vandal army, which the gods have abandoned! Order my messengers to-morrow to dash with this command to every tribe where I rule--with this advice, where I can counsel."
"Your counsel is a command wherever the desert sand extends. Only I grieve for the man with the mournful eyes. He has shown favor to many of our people, granted hospitality to many of our tribes; what return shall they make to their friend?"
"Hospitality unto death! Not fight his battles, not share his booty; but if he comes to them seeking shelter and protection, divide the last date with him, shed the last drop of blood in his defence. Up, strike the basin! We will depart ere the sun wakes. Untether the camels!"
The old man rose hastily.
The youth dealt the copper kettle that hung beside the tent a blow with his curved scimetar. The brown-skinned men, women, and children were astir like a swarm of ants. When the sun rose above the horizon, the oasis was empty, desolate, silent as death.
Far in the south whirled upward a cloud of dust and sand which the north wind seemed to be driving farther and farther inland.
Procopius to Cethegus:
We are still marching forward, and certainly as if we were in a friendly country. Our heroes, even the Huns, have understood, thanks less to my marching orders than to actual experience, that they cannot steal as many provisions as the people will voluntarily bring if they are to be paid instead of being robbed. Belisarius is winning all the provincials by kindness. So the colonists flock from all directions to our camp and sell us everything we need, at low prices. When we are obliged to spend the night in the open fields we carefully fortify the camp.
When it can be done we remain at night in cities, as, for instance, in Leptis and Hadrumetum. The Bishop, with the Catholic clergy, comes forth to meet us, as soon as our Huns appear. The Senators and the most aristocratic citizens soon follow. The latter willingly allow themselves to be "forced "; that is, they wait till we are in the forum, so, in case we should all be thrown by our undiscoverable foes into the sea before we reach Carthage, they can attribute their friendliness to us to our cruel violence. With the exception of a few Catholic priests I have not seen a Roman in Africa for whom I felt the slightest respect. I almost think that they, the liberated, are even less worthy than we, the liberators.
We march on an average about ten miles daily. To-day we came from Hadrumetum past Horrea to Grasse, about forty-four Roman miles from Carthage,--a magnificent place for a camp. Our astonishment increases day by day, the more we learn of the riches of this African province. In truth, it may well be beyond human power to maintain one's native vigor beneath this sky, in this region. And Grasse! Here is a country villa--to speak more accurately, a proud pillared palace of the Vandal King--gleaming with marble, surrounded by pleasure-gardens, whose like I have never seen in Europe or Asia. About it bubble delicious springs brought through pipes from a distance, or up through the sand by some magical discoverer of water. And what a multitude of trees! and not one among them whose boughs are not fairly bending under the burden of delicious fruit. Our whole army is encamped in this fruit grove, beneath these trees; every soldier has eaten his fill and stuffed his leather pouch, for we shall march on early to-morrow morning; yet one can scarcely see a difference in the quantity. Everywhere, too, are vines loaded with bunches of grapes. Many, many centuries before a Scipio entered this country, industrious Phœnicians cultivated vines here, between the sea and the desert, training them on rows of stakes a few feet high. Here grows the best wine in all Africa; they say the Vandals drink it unmixed, from their helmets. I only sipped the almost purple liquor, to which Agnellus added half the quantity of water, yet I feel drowsy. I can write no more. Good-night, Cethegus, far away in Rome! Good-night, fellow-soldier! Just half a cup more; it tastes so good. Pleasant dreams! Wine makes us good-natured, so pleasant dreams to you, too. Barbarians! It is so comfortable here. The room assigned to me (the slaves, all Romans and Catholics, have not fled, and they serve us with the utmost zeal) is beautifully decorated with wall paintings. The bed is so soft and easy! A cool breeze from the sea is blowing through the open window. I will venture to take a quarter of a cup more; and to-night, dear Barbarians, if possible, no attack. May you sleep well. Vandals, so that I, too, can sleep sweetly! I almost believe the African sickness--dread of every exertion--has already seized upon me.
* * * * *
Four days' march from the wonder-land of Grasse. We are spending the night in the open country. To-morrow we shall reach Decimum, less than nine Roman miles from Carthage, and not one Vandal have we seen yet.
It is late in the evening. Our camp-fires are blazing for a long distance, a beautiful scene! There is something ominous in the soft, dark air. Night is falling swiftly under the distant trees in the west. There is the blast of the shrill horns of our Huns. I see their white sheepskin cloaks disappearing. They are mounting guard on all three sides. At the right, on the northeast, the sea and our ships protect us; that is, for to-day. To-morrow the galleys will not be able to accompany our march as they have done hitherto, on account of the cliffs of the Promontory of Mercury, which here extend far out from the shore. So Belisarius ordered the Quæstor Archelaus, who commands the fleet, not to venture as for as Carthage itself, but, after rounding the promontory, to cast anchor and wait further orders. So to-morrow we shall be obliged, for the first time, to advance without the protection of our faithful companions, the ships; and as the road to Decimum is said to lead through dangerous defiles, Belisarius has carefully planned the order of marching and sent it in writing this evening to all the leaders, to save time in the departure early in the morning.
* * * * *
The warlike notes of the tuba are rousing the sleepers. We are about to start. An eagle from the desert in the west is flying over our camp.
It is reported that the first meeting with the enemy--only a few mounted men--took place during the night at our farthest western outpost. One of our Huns fell, and the commander of one of their squadrons, Bleda, is missing. Probably it is merely one of the camp rumors which the impatience of expectation has already conjured up several times. To-night we shall reach Decimum; to-morrow night the gates of Carthage. But where are the Vandals?
When Procopius wrote the last lines, those whom he was seeking were far nearer than he imagined.
The first rays of the morning sun darted above the sea, glittered on the waves, and shone over the yellowish-brown sand of the edge of the desert, as a dozen Vandal horsemen dashed into the King's camp a few leagues southwest of Decimum.
Gibamund, the leader, and the boy Ammata sprang from their horses. "What do ye bring?" shouted the guards.
"Victory," answered Ammata.
"And a captive," added Gibamund.
They hastened to rouse the King. But Gelimer came in full armor out of his tent to meet them.
"You are stained with blood--both. You, too, Ammata; are you wounded?" His voice was tremulous with anxiety.
"No," laughed the handsome boy, his eyes sparkling brightly. "It is the blood of the enemy."
"The first that has been shed in this war," replied the King, gravely, "sullies your pure hand. Oh, if I had not consented--"
"It would have been unfortunate," Gibamund interrupted. "Our child has done well. Go to the tent for Hilda, my lad, while I deliver the report. So, chafing with impatience, we long endured your keeping us so far away from the foe; we have followed their march at a great distance, unsuspected even by their farthest outposts. When to-night you finally permitted us to ride nearer to their flank than usual, in order to discover whether they really intended to go to Decimum to-day unprotected by the fleet, and to pass at noon through the Narrow Way, you said that if we could obtain a captive without causing much disturbance, it would be desirable. Well, we have not only a prisoner, but more; we found an important strip of parchment on him. And it is fortunate; for the man refuses to give any information. See, they are bringing him yonder. There come Thrasaric and Eugenia; and Ammata is already drawing Hilda here by the hand."
"Welcome," cried the young wife, hastening toward her beloved husband, but she shrank in embarrassment from his embrace, for the captive was already standing before the King. With hands bound behind his back, he darted savage glances from beneath his bushy brows at the Vandals, especially at Ammata. Blood trickled from his left cheek upon the white sheepskin that covered his shoulders; his lower garment also--it reached only to the knee--was of untanned leather; his feet were bare; a huge spur was buckled with a thong on his right heel, and four gold disks, bestowed by the Emperor and his generals in honor of brave deeds (like our orders), were fastened on his heavy leather breastplate.
"So," continued Gibamund, "toward midnight, with only ten Vandals and two Moors behind us, we rode out of camp toward the distant light of the hostile campfires, cautiously concealing ourselves behind the long mounds of sand, stretching for half a league, which the desert wind is constantly heaping up and blowing away again, especially just on the edge of the wilderness. Under the protection of this cover, we advanced unseen so far eastward that we saw by the glare of a watchfire--probably lighted to drive away the wild beasts--four horsemen. Two sat crouching on their little nags, with their bows bent, gazing intently toward the southwest, whence we had come; the other two had dismounted and were leaning against the shoulders of their horses. The points of their lances glittered in the flickering light of the fire.
"I motioned to the two Moors, whom I had taken with us for this clever trick. Slipping noiselessly from their steeds, they threw themselves flat on the ground and were scarcely distinguishable in the darkness from the surrounding sand. They crept on all fours in a wide circle, one to the left, the other to the right, around the fire and the sentinels, until they stood northeast and northwest of them. They had soon vanished from our sight, for they glided as swiftly as lizards.
"Soon we heard, on the other side of the watchfire, toward the north, the hoarse, menacing cry of the leopardess going out with her cubs on the nocturnal quest of prey. The mother was instantly answered by the beseeching cry of her young. The four horses of the sentinels shied, their manes bristled; the scream of the leopardess came nearer, and all four of the strangers--they had probably never heard such a sound--turned in the direction of the noise. One of the horses reared violently, the rider swayed, clinging to its mane; another, trying to help him, snatched at the bridle, his bow falling from his hand. Profiting by the confusion of the moment, we glided forward in perfect silence from behind the sand-hill. We had wrapped cloth around the horses' hoofs, and almost reached them unseen; not until we were close by the fire did one of the mounted men discover us. 'Foes!' he shouted, darting away. The other rider followed. The third did not reach the saddle; I struck him down as he was mounting. But the fourth--this man here, the leader--was on his horse's back in an instant; he ran down the two Moors who tried to stop him, and would have escaped, but Ammata--our child"--he pointed to the boy; the captive gnashed his teeth furiously--"shot after him like an arrow on his little white steed--"
"Pegasus!" Ammata interrupted. "You know, brother, you brought him to me from the last Moorish war. He really goes as though he had wings."
"--reached him, and before any one of us could lend assistance, with a swift double thrust--"
"You taught me, Gelimer!" cried Ammata, with sparkling eyes, for he could no longer restrain himself.
"--of the short-sword, he thrust the enemy's long spear aside and dealt him a heavy blow on the cheek. But the brave fellow, heedless of the pain, dropped the spear and gripped the battle-axe in his belt. Then our child threw the noose around his neck--"
"You know--the antelope cast!" Ammata exclaimed to Gelimer.
"And with a jerk dragged him from his horse."
Gibamund spoke in the Vandal tongue, but the captive understood everything from the accompanying gestures, and now shrieked in the Latin of the camp, "May my father's soul pass into a dog if that be not avenged! I, the great-grandson of Attila--I--dragged from my horse by a boy--with a noose! Beasts are caught thus, not warriors!"
"Calm yourself, my little friend," replied Thrasaric, approaching him. "There is a good old motto among all the Gothic nations: 'Spare the wolf rather than the Hun.' Besides, that royal bird, the ostrich, is captured in the same way when he is overtaken. So it's no disgrace to you." Laughing heartily, he straightened the heavy helmet with the bear's head.
"We reached the two at once," Gibamund continued, "bound the man, who fought like a wild boar, and snatched from his teeth this strip of parchment which he was trying to swallow."
The prisoner groaned.
"What is your name?" asked the King, glancing hastily at the parchment.
"Bleda."
"How strong is your army in horsemen?"
"Go and count them."
"Friend Hun," said Thrasaric, in a threatening tone, "a king is speaking to you. Behave civilly, little wolf. Answer politely the questions you are asked, or--"
The prisoner glanced defiantly toward Gelimer, saying, "This gold disk was given to me by the great General with his own hands after our third victory over the Persians. Do you think I would betray Belisarius?"
"Lead him away," said Gelimer, waving his hand. "Bind up his wound. Treat him kindly."
The Hun cast another glance of mortal hate at Ammata, then he followed his guards.
Gelimer again looked at the parchment. "I thank you, my boy," he said, "I thank you. You have indeed brought us no trivial thing, the order of the enemy's march to-day. Follow me to my tent, my generals; there you shall hear my plan of attack. We need not wait for the arrival of the Moors. I think, if the Lord is not wrathful with us--but let us have no sinful arrogance--Oh, Ammata, how I rejoice to have you again alive! After your departure I had a terrible dream about you. God has restored you to me once--I will not tempt Him a second time." Going close to the boy and laying his hand on his shoulder, he said in his sternest tone: "Listen; I forbid you to fight in the battle to-day."
"What?" cried Ammata, furiously, turning deadly pale. "That is impossible! Gelimer, I beseech--"
"Silence," said the King, frowning, "and obey."
"Why," cried Gibamund; "I should think you might let him go. He has shown--"
"Oh, brother, brother," exclaimed Ammata, tears streaming from his eyes, "how have I deserved this punishment?"
"Is this his reward for to-night's deed?" warned Thrasaric.
"Silence, all of you," Gelimer commanded sternly. "It is decided. He shallnotfight with us. He is still a boy."
Ammata stamped his foot angrily.
"And oh, my darling," Gelimer added, clasping the vehemently resisting lad in his arms, "let me confess it. I love you so tenderly, with such undue affection, that anxiety for you would not leave me for a single instant during the battle, and I need all my thoughts for the foe."
"Then let me fight by your side; protect me yourself!"
"I dare not. I dare not think of you. I must think of Belisarius."
"Indeed, I pity him from my inmost soul," cried Hilda, in passionate excitement. "I am a woman, and it is hard enough for me not to go with you: but a boy of fifteen!"
Eugenia timidly pulled her back by the robe, stroking and kissing her hand; but Hilda, smoothing the boy's golden locks, went on: "It is a duty, it is a patriotic duty, that every man who can--especially a son of the royal house--should fight for his people. This lad can fight; he has proved it. So do not refuse him to his people. My ancestor taught me that only he who is to fall will fall."
"Sinful paganism!" exclaimed the King, wrathfully.
"Well, then, let me address you as a Christian. Is this your trust in God, Gelimer? Who in the two armies is as guiltless as this child? O King, I am less devout than you, but I have confidence enough in the God of Heaven to believe that he will protect this boy in our just cause. Ay, should this purest, fairest scion of the Asding race fall, it would be like a judgment of God, proclaiming that we are indeed corrupt in His eyes!"
"Hold!" cried the King, in anguish. "Do not probe the deepest wounds of my breast. If heshouldfall now? If a judgment of God, as you called it, should so terribly overtake us? Doubtless he is free from guilt as far as human beings can be. But have you forgotten the terrible words of menace--about the iniquity of the fathers? If I experiencedthat, I should see in it the curse of vengeance fulfilled, and I believe I should despair."
He began to pace swiftly up and down.
Then Gibamund whispered to his wife, who shook her proud head silently but wrathfully, "Let him go. Such anxiety in the brain of the commander-in-chief will do more harm than the spears of twenty boys can render service."
"But arrows fly far," cried Ammata, defiantly. "If, like a miserable coward, I remain behind your backs, I can fall here in the camp if the foes conquer. I certainly will not be taken captive," he added fiercely, seizing his dagger, and throwing back his head till his fair locks floated over his light-blue armor. "Better put me in a church at once--but a Catholic one; that would be a safe sanctuary, devout King."
"Yes, Iwilllock you up, unruly boy," Gelimer now said sharply. "For that insolent jeer, you will give up your weapons at once--at once. Take them from him, Thrasaric. You, Thrasaric, will assail the foe in the front, from Decimum. In Decimum stands a Catholic church; it will be inviolable to the Byzantines. There you will keep imprisoned during the battle the boy who desires to be a soldier and has not yet learned to obey his King. In case of retreat, you will take him with you. And listen, Thrasaric: that night--in the grove--you promised to atone for the past--"
"I think he has done so," cried Hilda, indignantly.
"Whose troops are the best drilled?" added Gibamund. "Who has lavished gold, weapons, horses, like him?"
"My King," replied Thrasaric, "hitherto I have done nothing. Give me to-day an opportunity."
"You must find it. I rely upon you. Above all, that you will not impetuously attack too soon and spoil my whole plan. And this rebellious boy," he added tenderly, "I commend to your care. Keep him out of the battle; bring him to me safe and unhurt after the victory, on which I confidently rely. I also commit to your charge all the prisoners, among them the hostages from Carthage; for, in case of retreat, you will be at its goal--you will learn it at once, the first man; therefore the captives will be most securely guarded with you. I intrust to you Ammata, the apple of my eye, because, well--because you are my brave, faithful Thrasaric." He laid both hands on the giant's broad shoulders.
"My King," replied the Vandal, looking him steadfastly in the eyes, "you will see the Prince again, living and unhurt, or you will never see Thrasaric more."
Eugenia shuddered.
"I thank you. Now to my tent. Vandal generals, to hear the plan of battle!"