Belisarius is pushing the work on the walls day and night. Besides the whole army and the crews of the ships, he has employed the citizens. They grumble, saying that we came to liberate them, and now compel them to harder labor than Gelimer ever imposed. The vast extent of the city wall shows many gaps and holes; we think that may be the reason the King did not retreat into his capital after the lost battle. Verus, who, even in secular matters, holds a high place in the esteem of the "Tyrant" (this, according to Justinian's command, is the name we must give the champion of his people's liberty), is said, according to the statements of the prisoners, to have advised the King from the first to shut himself up in Carthage and let us besiege him there. If that is true, the priest knows more about lamps than he does of war, but that is natural. The very first night, our General says, we could have slipped in through some gap, especially as many thousand Carthaginians were ready to show us such holes. And we should have captured the whole Vandal grandeur at one blow, as if in a mouse-trap; while now we must seek the enemy in the desert. The King instantly rejected the counsel.
* * * * *
The goddess Tyche is the one woman in whom I often really feel tempted to believe. And also in Ate,--Discord. To you, Ate and Tyche, mighty sisters, not to Saint Cyprian, we must light lanterns to show our gratitude. The goddess of Fortune is not weary of playing ball with the destinies of the Vandals, but she could not do it, if Ate had not placed this ball in her hands.
Yesterday a little sail-boat ran into the harbor from the north. It bore the scarlet Vandal flag. Captured by our guard-ships, which were lurking unseen behind the high wall of the harbor, the Barbarians on board were frightened nearly to death; they had had no idea of the capture of their capital. They had come directly from Sardinia! To send the flower of their fleet and army there, while we were already lying off Sicily, was surely prompted by Ate. On the captain was found a letter with the following contents:
"Hail, and victory to you, O King of the Vandals! Where now are your gloomy forebodings? I announce victory. We landed at Caralis, the capital of Sardinia. We took harbor, city, and capitol. Goda, the traitor, fell by my spear; his men are dispersed or prisoners; the whole island is again yours. Celebrate a feast of victory. It is the omen of a greater day, when you will crush the insolent foes who, as we have just heard here, are really sailing against our coasts. Not one must return from our Africa! This writes Zazo, your faithful General and brother."
"Hail, and victory to you, O King of the Vandals! Where now are your gloomy forebodings? I announce victory. We landed at Caralis, the capital of Sardinia. We took harbor, city, and capitol. Goda, the traitor, fell by my spear; his men are dispersed or prisoners; the whole island is again yours. Celebrate a feast of victory. It is the omen of a greater day, when you will crush the insolent foes who, as we have just heard here, are really sailing against our coasts. Not one must return from our Africa! This writes Zazo, your faithful General and brother."
That was yesterday; and to-day one of our cruisers brought into the harbor a Vandal galley captured on its way to Sardinia. It bore a messenger from Gelimer with the following letter:
"It was not Goda who lured us to Sardinia, but a demon of hell in Goda's form, whom God has permitted to destroy us. You did not set forth that we might vanquish Sardinia, but that our foes might conquer Africa. It was the will of Heaven, since God ordained your voyage. You had scarcely sailed, when Belisarius landed. His army is small, but fortune as well as heroism abandoned our people. The nation has no good-luck, and its King no discernment; even wise plans are ruined by the impetuosity of one or the kind heart of another. Ammata, our darling, has fallen; Thrasaric the faithful has fallen; Gibamund is wounded; our army was defeated at Decimum. Our ship-wharves, our harbors, our armory, our horses, Carthage itself are in the hands of the enemy. But the Vandals whom I still hold together seem to have been stupefied by the first blow; they cannot be roused, though everything is at stake. The short-lived outburst of energy has vanished from nearly all. It is shameful to say, but there is far more capacity for war in the twelve thousand Moorish mercenaries, whom I hired with heavy gold and have assembled in a strong camp at Bulla, than in our whole intimidated army. Should these men also fail me, the end would soon come. Our sole hope is on you and your return. Let Sardinia and the punishment of the rebellion go; fly hither with the whole fleet. Do not land at Carthage, however, but far to the left, on the boundary between Mauritania and Numidia. Let us avert or bear together the threatening destruction.GELIMER."
"It was not Goda who lured us to Sardinia, but a demon of hell in Goda's form, whom God has permitted to destroy us. You did not set forth that we might vanquish Sardinia, but that our foes might conquer Africa. It was the will of Heaven, since God ordained your voyage. You had scarcely sailed, when Belisarius landed. His army is small, but fortune as well as heroism abandoned our people. The nation has no good-luck, and its King no discernment; even wise plans are ruined by the impetuosity of one or the kind heart of another. Ammata, our darling, has fallen; Thrasaric the faithful has fallen; Gibamund is wounded; our army was defeated at Decimum. Our ship-wharves, our harbors, our armory, our horses, Carthage itself are in the hands of the enemy. But the Vandals whom I still hold together seem to have been stupefied by the first blow; they cannot be roused, though everything is at stake. The short-lived outburst of energy has vanished from nearly all. It is shameful to say, but there is far more capacity for war in the twelve thousand Moorish mercenaries, whom I hired with heavy gold and have assembled in a strong camp at Bulla, than in our whole intimidated army. Should these men also fail me, the end would soon come. Our sole hope is on you and your return. Let Sardinia and the punishment of the rebellion go; fly hither with the whole fleet. Do not land at Carthage, however, but far to the left, on the boundary between Mauritania and Numidia. Let us avert or bear together the threatening destruction.
GELIMER."
The letters of the brothers cross each other, and both fall into our hands! And now the King will vainly await his fleet in the west. Come, Goddess Tyche, puff out your cheeks, blow upon the sails of the Vandal galleys, and bring them all in safety with the victorious army, Gelimer's last hope, into the harbor of Carthage--to captivity.
* * * * *
The Goddess Tyche, too, is just a woman, like the rest. Suddenly she turns her back upon us--at least a little--and coquets with the fair-haired warriors. I might be inclined to turn again to the holy lamplighter. The "Tyrant" is making progress. How? By his kind heart and friendliness, people say. He is winning the country population,--not the Moors, no,--the Romans, the Catholics. Hear and help, O Saint Cyprian! He is drawing them from us to his side. He maintains strict discipline; but the only time our Huns do not rob, plunder, and steal is when they are standing in rank and file before Belisarius--or when they are asleep; but then they at least dream of pillaging. So the peasants whom we have liberated flee in throngs from their deliverers to the camp of the Barbarian King. They prefer the Vandals to the Huns. They collect together, fall upon our plundering heroes (true, they are largely camp-followers), cut off their pagan, nay, even their Christian heads, and receive in exchange from the "Tyrant" a heretical gold-piece. That alone would not be so bad, but the peasants serve the Vandal as spies, and tell him everything he desires to know, so far as they know it themselves. This kindness of heart is undoubtedly hypocrisy, but it helps,--perhaps more than if it were genuine.
* * * * *
I am really almost sorry for the Sphinx. She was so wonderfully beautiful! Only it is a pity that she did not become an animal instead of a woman. Fara discovered that she also allowed Althias the Thracian and Aigan the Hun to divine the mystery of her nature. At first the three heroes intended to fight to the death for the marvel. But this time the Hun was wiser than either the German or the Thracian. By his suggestion, they fraternally divided the woman into equal portions by strapping her on a board, and, with two blows of an axe, separating her into three parts. Fara received the head, as was fair; he had the best right to it. For when she noticed his distrust, she tried to soothe him by the offer of some fruit which she broke fresh from the tree. But she made a mistake there; Fara, the Herulian and pagan, likes horse-flesh far better than he does peaches. He gave it to her ape. The animal bit it, shook itself, and lay dead. This disturbed the German, and he did not rest until he had solved all the riddles of the many-sided Sphinx, even her natural faithlessness. Then, as I said, they divided the beautiful body into three parts. I advised them to bury the corpse very deep, or at night scorching red flames would burst from her grave.
* * * * *
A little defeat.
Belisarius was complaining he knew too little of the enemy. So he sent one of the best men of his body-guard, Diogenes, towards the southwest to obtain news. He and his men spent the night in a village. The peasants swore that there was not a Vandal within two days' march. Our heroes slept in the best house,--it belonged to the villicus,--in the second story; of course they had first been a long time under the lower story, that is, in the cellar. They posted no sentinels, certainly not; they are the liberators of the peasants. The fact that they had just drunk all the wine contained in all the amphoræ in the village, killed the people's cattle, embraced their wives, had nothing to do with the matter. Peasants must expect such things.
Soon they were all snoring, Diogenes in the lead. Night fell. The peasants quickly brought the Vandals,--from the immediate neighborhood,--who surrounded the house. But Saint Cyprian is stronger than the heaviest drunken sleep. He caused a sword to drop on a metal shield below; it waked--this is a miracle in which I believe, for no mortal could accomplish it--it waked one of the sleepers. Under cover of the darkness most of the men succeeded in escaping; Diogenes came back, too--with three wounds in his face and neck, minus the little finger of his sword-hand, and without a single piece of useful information.
* * * * *
The Goddess Tyche is blowing badly. The Vandal fleet has not yet run into Carthage to its destruction.
* * * * *
The Tyrant seems to have roused his army from its stupor. Our outposts, horsemen whom we send forth around the city, report: "Vast clouds of dust are rising in the southwest, which can be caused only by an approaching army."
* * * * *
No Zazo. Has he, in spite of the capture of that letter, received warning and chosen another landing-place? The Vandals were undoubtedly hidden in that cloud of dust. Our Herulians have captured a few peasants; we have already perceived in this almost liberated Africa that the peasants must be captured by their deliverers, if we wish to get sight of them. They seek refuge with the Barbarians from liberty. The prisoners say that the King himself is marching against us. He ordered a Vandal noble who had stolen a colonist's wife to be hanged on the high door of the colonist's house. And this nobleman's shieldbearer, who had taken two of the colonist's geese, to be hanged on the low stable door, beside his master. Strange, is it not? But it pleases the peasants. "Equalizing justice," Aristoteles calls it. This wonderful Vandal hero must surely have studied philosophy, as well as the art of throwing spears.
Belisarius has sent an urgent warning to Constantinople concerning the long-delayed pay of the Huns. They are growing troublesome. It is now six months since we left the city; December has come. Desert storms sweep over Carthage to the leaden-hued sea, which long since lost its beautiful blue. The Huns are threatening to leave the service. They excuse their pillaging on the ground that the citizens of Carthage and the peasants will trust neither them nor the Emperor (in which they are not wrong). We cannot pay with money lying in Constantinople, they say. To-day a ship arrived from there, but did not bring a single solidus in money. There were, however, thirty tax-collectors, and a command to send the first taxes from the conquered province.
* * * * *
If King Gelimer hangs, we hang too. But we hang Romans, not Vandals. The resentment against us is no longer confined to the peasants. It is seething in Carthage, under our own eyes. The common people, the tradesmen and the smaller merchants especially, who did not feel the oppression of the Barbarians as heavily as the wealthy Senators, are growing rebellious. A conspiracy has been discovered. Gelimer's army is not far from the western, the Numidian gate. His horsemen range at night as far as the walls of the suburb of Aklas. The Vandals were to be admitted under cover of the darkness through the gaps still remaining in the walls of the lower city. Belisarius ordered two Carthaginian citizens convicted of this agreement, Laurus and Victor, to be hanged on the hill outside of the Numidian gate. Belisarius likes hills for his gallows. Then the General's administration of justice can be seen for a long distance swaying in the wind. But Belisarius does not dare to leave the city with the army while the Carthaginians are in such a mood. At least the walls must first be repaired. The citizens are now compelled to work on them at night too; it is making them very discontented.
* * * * *
No Zazo! and the Huns are on the brink of open mutiny. They declare that they will not fight in the next battle; that they have had no pay yet, and that they have been lured here across the sea, contrary to the agreement for military service. They are afraid that, after the defeat of the Vandals, they will be left here to do garrison duty, and never be taken home. Belisarius has already looked for a more spacious hill, but has not found one that would be large enough. There are too many of them. And the rest of us are, on the whole, too few. Besides, they are among our best troops. So the General invited their leaders (the order to hang them was written yesterday) to dine with him to-day. This is the greatest honor and pleasure to them; unfortunately it is much less pleasant to the regular guests of Belisarius. He praised them, and offered them wine. Soon all were drunk and perfectly content.
* * * * *
They have slept off their carouse, and now are more dissatisfied than ever,--thirstier too. We have an ample supply of wine, but, during the last three hours, no water. The Vandals have cut the magnificent aqueduct outside the Numidian gate. The Huns can do without it, easily; but not we, the horses, the camels, and the Carthaginians. So the King will thus force a decisive battle in the field. He cannot surround the city, as we control the sea. He cannot storm it, since at last the fortifications are completed according to Belisarius's plan. He desires, he seeks a battle in the open field. His confidence, or that of his "stupefied army," must have returned mightily since that sorrowful letter.
Belisarius has no choice; he will lead us out early to-morrow morning to meet the foe. He is anxious lest the Huns may secretly harbor some evil design, and has charged Fara to keep a sharp watch upon them. If the battle should waver, the Huns will waver too. Then we shall see in the van a conflict between Byzantines and Vandals, and in the rear a struggle between Herulians and Huns. That may become exciting. But this very suspense, this charm of danger, attracted me to Belisarius's service, drew me to his camp. Better a Vandal arrow in my brain than the philosophy over which I had studied myself ill.--To-morrow!
The following day, after again inspecting the restored fortifications of Carthage, and finding them sufficiently strong to receive, in case of necessity, his defeated army and defy a siege, Belisarius sent all the cavalry, except five hundred picked Illyrians, out of the gates to meet the foe. To Althias the Thracian he assigned the chosen body of shield-bearers with the imperial banner. They were not to shun, but rather invite a skirmish with the outposts. He himself was to follow the next day with the main body of the infantry and the five hundred Illyrian horsemen. Only the few soldiers absolutely required to guard the gates, towers, and walls remained in the city.
At Trikameron, about seventeen Roman miles--seventeen thousand paces--west of Carthage, Althias met the foe.
The front ranks of both troops exchanged a few arrow-shots, and returned to their armies with the report. The Byzantines pitched their camp where they stood. Not far from them blazed the numerous watch-fires of the Vandals. A narrow brook ran between the two positions. The whole region was flat and treeless, with the exception of one hill of moderate size that rose from the sandy soil very near the stream on the left wing of the Romans.
Without waiting for Althias's command or permission, Aigan, the principal leader of the Huns, dashed up the hill as soon as he heard that the men were to encamp here to-day and fight on the morrow. The other leaders and their bands darted after him with the speed of an arrow. He sent a message to Althias that the Huns would spend the night on the hill, and take their position the next day. Althias avoided forbidding what he could not prevent without bloodshed. But the hill dominated the surrounding neighborhood.
At a late hour of the night, the chieftains of the Huns met on the top of the hill.
"Is there no spy near?" asked Aigan. "This Herulian Prince never leaves us."
"My lord, I obeyed your commands. Seventy Huns are lying on guard in a circle around our station; not a bird can fly over them unnoticed."
"What shall we do to-morrow?" asked a third, leaning against his horse's shoulder and patting its shaggy mane. "I no longer trust the word of Belisarius. He is deceiving us."
"Belisarius is not deceiving us. His master is deludinghim."
"I saw a strange sign," the second leader began anxiously. "Just as darkness closed in, little blue flames danced upon the points of the Romans' spears. What does that mean?"
"It means victory," cried the third, greatly excited. "There is a tradition in our tribe, my great-grandfather saw it himself, and it was transmitted from generation to generation, before the terrible day in Gaul when the scourge of the great Attila broke."
"Atta in the clouds, great Atta, be gracious to us," murmured all three, bowing low toward the east.
"My ancestor was on guard duty one dark night beside a rushing stream. On the opposite shore two men, with spears on their shoulders, were riding to examine the neighborhood. My great-grandfather and his companions slipped among the tall rushes and bent their bows, which never failed. They took aim. 'Look, Ætius,' cried one, 'your spear is shining.' 'And yours too, King of the Visigoths,' replied the other. Our ancestors looked up, and, in truth, blue flames were dancing around the spears of the enemy. Our people fled in terror, not daring to shoot those whom the gods protected. And the day after Atta--"
"Atta, Atta, be not angry with us!" they again whispered, gazing in terror up at the clouds.
"What then meant victory to the Germans and misfortune to their foes," replied Aigan, distrustfully, "may have the same meaning now. We will wait. Wherever victory turns, we will turn too; that is why I chose this hill for our station. From here we can see clearly the whole course of the battle. Either straight across the brook on the Vandals' left flank--"
"Or to the right on the Romans' centre--like a whirlwind!"
"I would rather plunder the Vandals' camp. It is said to be very rich in yellow gold."
"And in white-bosomed women."
"But all Carthage has more gold than the Vandal Prince in his tent."
"But the best part is, the decision will probably come before the Lion of the Romans arrives."
"You are right: I would not willingly spur my horse against the wrathful lightning of his eyes."
"Patience. Wait quietly. Wherever I send an arrow, we will rush; and Atta will hover, high in the air, above his children."
Removing his helmet of thick black sheepskin, he threw it upward, singing softly:
"Atta, Atta, booty grant us,Booty to thy much-loved children,Yellow gold and shining silver,And the red blood of the vineyard,And the foeman's fairest women."
"Atta, Atta, booty grant us,
Booty to thy much-loved children,
Yellow gold and shining silver,
And the red blood of the vineyard,
And the foeman's fairest women."
All, with bared heads, repeated the words in the deepest, most fervent reverence. Then Aigan replaced his helmet:
"Silence! Let us separate."
In the Vandal camp on the left bank of the stream, Genseric's great banner floated from the royal tent, its folds often lifted by the night wind, rustling softly in the warm, dark air. In a somewhat lower tent, close beside the King's, Gibamund and Hilda sat silent, hand in hand, upon a couch. The table before them was covered with Gibamund's weapons; the lamp hanging from the roof cast a dim light upon them, which was reflected by the polished metal. Beside these bright arms lay a dark dagger with a beautiful hilt in a black leather sheath, all of very artistic work.
"It was hard for me," said Gibamund, starting up impatiently, "to obey the King's order and take command in the camp to-day until his return,--the suspense, the expectation is so great."
"Yes, if the Moors should fail us! How many are there, did you say?"
"Twelve thousand. They ought to have arrived the day before yesterday, if they had hastened here from the camp at Bulla, according to the agreement. The King sent messenger after messenger, urging haste, in vain. At last, full of impatience, he himself rode along the Numidian road to meet them. For if twelve thousand infantry fail us to-morrow,--they were to form our whole left wing,--our position will be--hark! that is the horn of the camp-guard. The King must have returned. Let me ask."
But already footsteps and the clank of weapons were heard close at hand; the husband and wife, springing up, hurried to the entrance of the tent. The curtains were drawn back from the outside, and before them, the helmet on his lofty head, stood Zazo.
"You, brother?"
"You back again, Zazo! Oh, now all is well!"
Graver, quieter than usual, but resolute and calm, the strong warrior stood between the two who clung to him, pressing his hands. It was a joy, a consolation, to look at the erect, steadfast man.
"All is not well, my sweet sister-in-law," he answered sadly though firmly. "Alas for Ammata, and the whole day of Decimum! I do not understand it," he added, shaking his head, "but much may yet be retrieved."
"Whence came you so suddenly? Have you seen Gelimer?"
"He will be here soon. He promised me. He is still praying in his tent, with Verus."
"You are from--?"
"Sardinia, direct. A letter from the King, sent by Verus, urging me to a speedy return and warning me not to enter the harbor of Carthage, did not reach me. But a second, despatched by my brother himself, brought the whole tale of disaster. I landed at the point named, and marched to Bulla to meet the Moorish mercenaries and lead them here. I reached Bulla and found--" He stamped his foot.
"Well, what?"
"The empty camp."
"Had the Moors started to come here?"
"They have scattered, the whole twelve thousand, into the desert."
"For God's sake--"
"The traitors!"
"Not traitors. They sent the money back to the King. Cabaon, their prophet and chief, warned them, forbade them to take part in this battle. All obeyed. Only a few hundred men from the Pappua Mountains--"
"They are bound by the ties of hospitality to Gelimer, to the whole Asding race."
"--accompanied us, led by Sersaon, their chief."
"This destroys the King's whole plan for to-morrow's battle."
"Well," said Zazo, quietly, "to make amends he has unexpectedly received my troops. Not quite five thousand, but--"
"But you are their leader," cried Gibamund.
"He met on the Numidian road, first, the messengers I had sent in advance, then me and my little army. What a sorrowful hour! How I had rejoiced over my victory! But now Gelimer's tears flowed fast as he lay on my breast, and I myself--Oh, Ammata! Yet, no, we must remain firm, calm, and manly, ay, hard; for this King is far too soft-hearted."
"Yet he has recovered himself since the battle of Decimum," said Gibamund. "At that time he was utterly crushed."
"Yes," cried Hilda, resentfully, "more than a man should permit himself to be."
"I loved Ammata scarcely less than he," replied Zazo, and his lips quivered. "But to let certain victory escape him merely to mourn for, to bury the boy--"
"You would not have done so, my Zazo," said a gentle voice.
Gelimer had entered. He uttered the words very quietly; the others turned, startled.
"Your censure is just," he added. "But I saw in this dispensation--he was the first Vandal who fell in the war--a judgment of God. If the most innocent of us all must die, God's punishment for the iniquity of the fathers rests upon us all."
Zazo shook his head angrily and set his buffalo helmet on the table so heavily that it rattled. "Brother, brother! This gloomy, brooding delusion may destroy you and your whole people. I am not learned enough to argue with you. But I, too, am a Christian, a devout one,--no pagan like beautiful Hilda yonder, and I tell you--No, let me finish. How that terrible verse concerning God's vengeance is to be interpreted I do not know. It troubles me very little. But this I do know: if our kingdom fall, it will fall not on account of the sins of our ancestors, but of our own. The iniquity of the fathers--of course it, too, will be avenged. Vices and disease are also hereditary. Enfeebled themselves, they have begotten a feeble generation. They have bequeathed to their children their love of pleasure and fostered it in them. And the iniquity of the fathers is also avenged upon us in other ways, but without any miracle of the saints. That the Catholics, tortured for years, turned to the Emperor against us; that the Ostrogoths aid our foes, are certainly punishments for the iniquity of our fathers. But God needs to work no miracle for that; indeed, he would be compelled to work a miracle to prevent it. And Ammata--is he innocent? Against your command he dashed recklessly into the battle. And Thrasaric? Instead of leaving the disobedient boy to his fate, according to his duty as General, and not attacking until Gibamund was at hand, he followed only the ardent desire of his heart to save your darling. And--"
He hesitated.
"And the King?" Gelimer went on. "Instead of doing his duty, he succumbs at the sight of the dead. But that is the curse, the vengeance of the Lord."
"No," replied Zazo. "This, too, is no miracle. This is because you, also, O brother, are no longer a true Vandal; I have said so before. You are absorbed,--not like the people, in luxury and pleasure,--but in brooding. And again it is a consequence of the misdeed of the father; if you had not when a boy witnessed that horrible scene of torture--But it is useless to ask how the past is to blame for the present; the aim should be to do our duty to-day, to-morrow, every day, firmly, faithfully, and without brooding. Then we shall conquer, and that will be well; or we shall fall like men, and that, too, is no evil thing. We can do no more than our duty. And the dear Lord in Heaven will deal with our souls according to His mercy. I am not anxious about mine, if I fall in battle for my people."
"Oh," cried Hilda, joyously, "that does one good. It is like the fresh north wind scattering the sultry mists."
Sorrowfully but with no reproach in his tone, Gelimer answered: "Yes, the sound man cannot understand why the sick man does not sing and leap. Imust'brood,' as you call it; I cannot do otherwise. Yet often I think my way through. Often I, too, in my way, break through the mists. So now, by fervent prayer, I have again won my way to the old strong consolation. Verus, my confessor, knows these conflicts and the cause of my victory: right is on my side. I am not a usurper, as the Emperor falsely calls me. Hilderic, the assassin, was justly deposed. No guilt cleaves to me; I have done Hilderic no wrong; the Emperor has no injustice to avenge on me. This is my stay, my support, and my staff.--Ah, Verus, we never hear you enter."
Zazo measured the priest with a hostile glance.
"I came to summon you, O King. There are still some written orders to prepare. Besides, I was to remind you of the prisoners."
"Oh, yes. Listen, Zazo; give the consent I have so long asked. Let me release Hilderic and Euages."
"By no means," cried Zazo, striding up and down the narrow tent. "On no account. Least of all on the eve of a decisive battle. Shall Belisarius replace him on the throne of Carthage after we have fallen? Or shall he, after we have conquered, be kept continually at the court of Constantinople as a living pretext for attacking us again? Off with the murderers' heads! Where are they?"
"Here in the camp, in safe keeping."
"And the hostages?"
"They were--Pudentius's son among them--confined in Decimum," Verus answered. "After the lost battle, they were freed by the victors."
"That might be repeated to-morrow," cried Zazo, angrily. "Amid the tumult of conflict, the foe might easily, for a short time, enter this open camp. I entreat, my King--"
"So be it," interrupted the latter, and turning to Verus he ordered: "Have Hilderic and Euages taken away."
"Where?"
"To some safe place where no Byzantine can liberate them."
Verus bowed and hurriedly left the tent.
"I will follow you," the King called after him. "Do not judge me too sternly in your hearts, you thoroughly healthy people," he now added in a gentle voice, turning to the others. "I am a tree blasted by the lightning. But to-morrow," he went on, drawing himself up to his full height, "to-morrow, I hope, you shall be satisfied with me. Even you, Hilda! Send me your little harp; I believe you will not regret it."
Hilda brought the instrument from a corner of the tent. "Here! But you know," she said, smiling, "its strings will break if any one tries to play on them an accompaniment to Latin verses of penitential hymns."
"They will not break. Good-night."
The King left the tent.
"I think I have seen that harp of plain black wood in some other hand. Where was it?" asked Zazo. "In Ravenna, was it not?"
Hilda nodded. "My friend Teja, my teacher on the harp and in the use of arms, bestowed it on me as a wedding gift. And his noble, faithful heart has not forgotten me. In my happiness he made no sign. But now--"
"Well?" asked Zazo.
"As soon as the first news of our defeat at Decimum reached Ravenna," said Gibamund, "brave Ostrogoths, the old instructor in the use of arms, Teja, and several others, wished to come to our assistance with a body of volunteers; for it was rumored that I had fallen. Probably the mistake arose through the death of Ammata. The Regent strictly forbade it. Then Teja sent to my widow, as he supposed, this magnificent dagger of dark metal."
"The workmanship is exquisite," said Zazo, drawing out the blade and examining it. "What a superb weapon!"
"And he forged it himself," cried Hilda, eagerly. "Look here; his housemark on the hilt."
"And on the blade a motto inscribed in runes," added Zazo, stepping under the lamp: "'The dead are free.' H'm, a stern consolation. But not too stern for Hilda. Keep this carefully."
"Yes," replied Hilda, quietly. "The dagger in my girdle, and the consolation in my thoughts."
"But not too soon, Hilda," said Zazo, in a tone of warning, as he left the tent.
"Have no fear," she answered, throwing both arms around her husband; "it is the consolation and weapon of thewidow."
At sunrise the next morning the long-drawn notes of the horns aroused the sleeping camp of the Vandals.
Concealed from the eyes of the Romans by the first row of tents, the Barbarians' army was formed in order for battle within its own camp. The leaders had received written orders the evening before concerning their positions, and now executed them without confusion. A breakfast of bread and wine was served to the men wherever they stood or lay. The camp was a large one, narrow but very long, following the course of the little stream. Besides the soldiers, it had been compelled to shelter many women, children, and old men who had fled from Carthage and other districts occupied or threatened by the foe.
Now the blare of trumpets summoned the subordinate officers and the leaders of the thousands to the centre of the camp, where the King and his two brothers, mounted on their chargers, were in the midst of a large open space. With them, leaning against the shoulder of her splendid stallion, stood Hilda, a muffled spear-shaft in her hand; beside her, in full priestly insignia, Verus sat on horseback. Outside the leaders were massed the men with whom Zazo had reconquered Sardinia.
Again the blare of the trumpets echoed through the streets of tents, then Zazo rode a few paces forward. Thundering cheers greeted him. In loud, clear tones he began: "Listen, army of the Vandals. We shall fight to-day, not for victory alone; we are struggling for all we are and have,--the kingdom of Genseric and its renown, the wives and children in yonder tents, who will become slaves if we yield. To-day we must look death and the enemy closely in the eye. The King has commanded that this battle is to be fought by the Vandals with the sword only, not with bow and arrow, not with lance and spear. Look, I cast my own spear from me; you will do the same; with sword in hand, press close to the body of the foe." He dropped his lance; all the soldiers followed his example. "One spear alone," he added, "will tower aloft to-day in the Vandal army,--this."
Hilda stepped forward. Taking the shaft from her hand, he tore off the cover and waved high aloft a floating scarlet banner.
"Genseric's flag! Genseric's conquering dragon!" shouted thousands of voices.
"Follow this standard wherever it calls you. Do not let it fall into the hands of the enemy. Swear to follow it unto death."
"Unto death!" came the answer in solemn tones.
"That is well. I believe you. Vandals. Now listen to your King. You know that he has the gift of song and harp-playing. He has planned the order of battle wisely, skilfully; he has also composed the battle-song which is to sweep you into the conflict."
Then Gelimer, throwing back his long purple mantle, raised Hilda's--Teja's--dark triangular harp, and, to the accompaniment of its clear notes, sang:--
"On, on, Vandals brave,Forward to battle!Follow the standard,The fame-heraldedConsort of Victory."Dash on the foemen!Strive with and strike them,Breast 'gainst breast pressing,In close combat down!"Guard ye, O Vandals,The heritage nobleOf ancestors stainless,Our kingdom and fame!"Vengeance is preparingHigh in the heavensThe avenger of right:God crown with victoryThe cause that is just."
"On, on, Vandals brave,Forward to battle!Follow the standard,The fame-heraldedConsort of Victory.
"On, on, Vandals brave,
Forward to battle!
Follow the standard,
The fame-heralded
Consort of Victory.
"Dash on the foemen!Strive with and strike them,Breast 'gainst breast pressing,In close combat down!
"Dash on the foemen!
Strive with and strike them,
Breast 'gainst breast pressing,
In close combat down!
"Guard ye, O Vandals,The heritage nobleOf ancestors stainless,Our kingdom and fame!
"Guard ye, O Vandals,
The heritage noble
Of ancestors stainless,
Our kingdom and fame!
"Vengeance is preparingHigh in the heavensThe avenger of right:God crown with victoryThe cause that is just."
"Vengeance is preparing
High in the heavens
The avenger of right:
God crown with victory
The cause that is just."
"God crown with victory the cause that is just!" repeated the warriors, in an exulting shout, and dispersed through the streets of the camp.
The King and his brothers now dismounted from their horses, to hold another short council and to drink the wine which Hilda herself offered to them. Just at that moment, as Gelimer gave back the harp to Hilda, a strange figure pressed through the dispersing ranks; the King and the Princes gazed at it in astonishment. A tall man clad from head to ankles in a gown of camel's hair, fastened around the loins, not by a rope, but by a girdle of thick braided strands of a woman's light-brown tresses; no sandals protected the bare feet, no covering the closely shaven head. The cheeks were sunken; glowing eyes sparkled from deep sockets. Throwing himself before the King, he raised both hands imploringly.
"By Heaven! I know you, man," said Gelimer.
"Yes," cried Gibamund, "it is--"
"Thrasabad, Thrasaric's brother," added Zazo.
"The vanished nobleman whom we have long believed dead," said Hilda, with a timid glance at him, drawing nearer.
"Yes, Thrasabad," replied a hollow voice, "the miserable Thrasabad. I am a murderer, her murderer. King, judge me!"
Gelimer bent forward, took his right hand, and raised him.
"Not the Greek girl's murderer. I have heard the whole story from your brother."
"No matter; her blood rests on my soul. I felt that as I saw it flow. Lifting the beautiful body on a horse that very night, I dashed away with it from the eyes of men. Away, always deeper into the desert, till the horse fell. Then, with these hands, I buried her in a sand ravine not far from here. Her wonderfully beautiful hair I cut off; how often I have stroked and caressed it! And I prayed and did penance ceaselessly beside her grave. Pious desert monks found me there, watching and fasting, almost dead. And I confessed to them my heavy sin. They promised God's forgiveness if, as one of their brotherhood, I would do penance beside that grave forever. I took the vows. They gave me the dress of their order; I wound Glauke's hair around it to remind me always of my sin; and they brought me food in the lonely ravine. But since I heard of the day of Decimum and my brother's death; since the decisive conflict drew nearer and nearer; since you and the enemy pitched your camp close beside my hiding-place; since, two days ago, I heard the war horns of my people,--I have had no peace in my idle praying! Once I wielded the sword not badly. My whole heart yearned to follow once more, for the last time, the call of the battle trumpets. Alas! I dared not; I knew I was not worthy. But last night, in a dream,sheappeared to me,--her human beauty transfigured into an angel's radiant loveliness, no longer any trace of earth about her; and she said: 'Go to your brothers-in-arms, ask for a sword, and fight and fall for your people. That will be the best atonement.' Oh, believe me, my King! I do not lie with the name of that saint on my lips. If you can forgive me for her sake--oh, let me--"
Zazo stepped forward, drew the sword from the sheath of one of his own warriors, and gave it to the monk. "Here, Thrasabad, son of Thrasamer! I will answer for it to the King. Do you see? He, too, is nodding to you. Take this sword and go with my men. You will probably need no scabbard. Now, King Gelimer, let the horns bray. Forward! at the foe!"
The King, with a keen eye of a general, had seen that the crisis of the battle would be decided in the centre of the two armies, where on the southwest at the left, and on the northeast at the right of the little stream, rose a succession of low hills. Besides, deserters from the Huns had reported that in the next encounter these troops would either not fight at all, or take a very inactive part; therefore Gelimer expected from the right Roman wing no peril to his own left flank. He stationed the right wing of the Vandal troops tolerably far back, so that the enemy would have to march a considerable distance to reach it. Perhaps by that time the centre might already have won the victory, and thereby obtained the accession of the Huns.
So the King placed the best strength of his troops in the centre. By far the larger portion consisted of cavalry; there was a small force of infantry, Zazo's warriors, numbering nearly five thousand; here, too, he had posted Gibamund with his faithful two hundred men; here were the two Gundings and their numerous kinsmen, with boar helmets and boar shields, like their leaders; here he himself took his station with a large body of cavalry, to which he added the few faithful Moors from the Pappua Mountains under their young chief, Sersaon. The command of the two wings he had intrusted to two other noblemen. Before the beginning of the battle and during its course, Gelimer dashed in person on a swift horse everywhere through the ranks, rousing and stimulating the courage of his men.
The conflict began as the King had planned, by a total surprise of the foe. Just at the time the Byzantines were busied in preparing the morning meal, Gelimer suddenly led the centre of his army from behind the shelter of the row of tents to the left bank of the marshy little brook. This stream was so small that it had no name, yet it never dried up. And the left bank occupied by the Vandals was higher than the right. Belisarius was not yet on the ground, but his subordinate officers arranged their men as well as they could in their haste, where each division happened to be standing or lying. The right Roman wing on the hill consisted of the Huns, who did not move. Next to them, according to secret orders, stood Fara with the Herulians, watching these doubtful allies. Then followed, in the centre, Althias the Thracian and Johannes the Armenian, with their picked troops of their fellow-countrymen, and the shield and lance bearers of Belisarius's bodyguard. Here gleamed the imperial standard, thevexillum prætorium, the flag of the General, Belisarius. The left Roman wing was formed of the other auxiliary troops except the Huns. The Byzantines, too, had perceived that the victory would be decided in the centre of the two armies. When Gibamund, on his white charger, led his men forward, Hilda on her splendid stallion rode at his side. By her husband's wish she had protected her beautiful head with a light helmet, on which rose two white falcon wings; her bright golden locks flowed over her white mantle. He had also pressed upon her a small, shining shield, with a light silvery hue. Her white lower robe was girdled with the black belt which supported the sheath of Teja's dagger; but she had refused a breastplate on account of its weight.
"You will not let me fight with you or even ride by your side," she complained.
Already the Byzantines' arrows were flying over the Vandals and striking among Gibamund's men.
"Halt, love," he commanded, "go no farther! Not within reach of the arrows! Wait here, on this little hill. I will leave ten men as a guard. From this spot you can see a long distance. Watch the white heron's wings on my helmet, and the dragon banner. I shall follow it." A clasp of the hand; Gibamund dashed forward; Hilda quietly checked the docile horse. Her face was very pale.
The first encounter came at once.
Johannes the Armenian, one of Belisarius's best leaders, pressed with his countrymen through the stream, which reached only to their knees, and rushed out of it up the steeper Vandal shore. He was instantly hurled back. Zazo, with his foremost warriors, darted upon him with the weight with which a bird of prey strikes small game. Down the slope, into the midst of the stream, whose water was soon dyed red, and up the opposite bank, swept the Vandal pursuit. Hilda saw it plainly from her station. "Oh, at last, at last," she cried, "a breath of victory!"
But Zazo followed no farther. He prudently led his men back to the left bank of the stream. "We will pitch them down here again," he said, laughing; "we will profit once more by our position on the height."
The Armenians bore their brave leader away with them in their flight. Johannes, who had received through his shield a wound in the arm from Zazo's sword, said grimly to Marcellus, the commander of the bodyguard: "The devil has got into the cowards of Decimum. It confuses my spearmen to have them fight solely with the sword. The Barbarians thrust the long spears to the right, run under them, and cut the men down. And this fellow with the buffalo helm actually butts like a mountain bull. Give me your shield-bearers; I will try again."
With the shield-bearers, led by Martinus, the Armenians renewed the attack. Not an arrow, not a spear, flew to meet them; but as soon as they began to climb the Vandal shore, the Germans dashed down on them with the sword in a hand-to-hand conflict. Martinus fell by Gibamund's sword. Then the shield-bearers fled; the Armenians hesitated, wavered, fell into confusion, finally they, too, fled, pursued by the Vandals.