traitor that you would have represented him to be. But his innocence is
as clearly proved as your black falsehood. I had often felt uneasy at
the crookedness of your ways, into which you had partly led me also;
but I believed in the grandeur and unselfishness of your design: the
liberation of Italy! Now, however, I see that the mainspring of your
actions was measureless, unlimited, merciless ambition! A design which
necessitates such means as you have used is desecrated in my eyes for
ever. You tried to ruin Belisarius, that brave and simple-minded man,
by means of his own repentant wife, and to sacrifice him to Theodora
and to your own ambition. That was devilish; and I turn away from you
for ever."
Cethegus closed his eyes.
"I ought not to wonder at it," he said to himself. "He too has his
idol: Belisarius! Whoever touches that idol is as hateful to the wise
Procopius as he who sees in the Cross merely a piece of wood is to the
Christian. Therefore I ought not to wonder at it--but it pains me! Such
is the power of a thirty years' habit. During all those years a warmer
feeling came over my heart at the sound of the name, Procopius! How
weak does custom make us! The Goth deprived me of Julius--Belisarius
deprives me of Procopius! Who will deprive me of Cethegus, my oldest
and last friend? No one. Neither Narses nor Fate. Away with you,
Procopius, out of the circle of my life! Almost too lachrymose,
certainly too long, is the funeral speech which I have held over you.
What else does the dead man say?"
And he continued to read:
"But I write this letter, because I wish to close our long
friendship--to which you have put an end by your treacherous attack
upon my hero, Belisarius--with a last sign of affection. I wish to warn
and to save you, if it yet be possible. Seven letters which I sent you
have evidently never reached you, otherwise you would not still be
dwelling in the camp of Narses, as his army-reports affirm. So I will
entrust this eighth letter to my slave, Agnellus, a fisherman's son
from Stabiae, where you are now encamped. I will give him his freedom,
and recommend this letter to him as my last commission. For, although I
ought to hate you, I still love you, Cethegus! It is hard to abandon
you, and I would gladly save you. When, shortly after your departure, I
returned to Byzantium--already on the way the news of the arrest
of Belisarius (on account of treachery!) came upon me like a
thunderbolt--I believed at first that you, like the Emperor, had been
deceived. In vain I tried to gain a hearing from Justinian; he raged
against all who had ever been united in ties of friendship to
Belisarius. In vain I strove to see Antonina by every means in my
power. She was strictly guarded (thanks to your hints) in the Red
House. In vain I proved to Tribonianus the impossibility of treachery
on the part of Belisarius. He shrugged his shoulders and said: 'I
cannot comprehend it! But the proof is striking; this senseless denial
of the visits of Anicius. He is lost!' And he was lost. The sentence
was pronounced; Belisarius was condemned to death; Antonina to
banishment. The Emperor mercifully _mitigated_ the sentence of
Belisarius into banishment--far from Antonina's exile--the loss of
sight, and confiscation of his property. This terrible judgment lay
heavy upon all Byzantium. No one believed in the guilt of Belisarius
except the Emperor and the judges. But no one was able to prove his
innocence, or change his fate. I was resolved to go with him into
banishment; the one-armed with the blind. Then--and may he be blessed
for it for ever!--his great enemy, Narses, saved him! He whom I once
named to you as the greatest man of the age."
"To be sure," said Cethegus to himself, "and now he will also be the
most magnanimous."
"As soon as the news reached him in the Baths of Nikomedia--whither the
sick man had repaired--he hurried back to Byzantium. He sent for me and
said: 'You know well that it would have been my greatest pleasure to
beat Belisarius thoroughly in the open field; but he who has been my
great and noble rival shall not perish miserably because of these lies.
Come with me. We two--his greatest friend and his greatest enemy--will
together save that impetuous man.' And he demanded an audience of the
Emperor, which was at once granted to the enemy of Belisarius. Then he
said to Justinian: 'It is impossible that Belisarius is a traitor. His
only failing is his blind fidelity to your ingratitude.' But Justinian
was deaf. Then Narses laid his marshal's staff at the Emperor's feet
and said: 'Well, either you will annul the sentence of the judges, and
permit a new inquiry, or you will lose both your generals on one day.
For, on the same day that Belisarius goes into exile, I go too. Then
see to it, who will guard your doors from the Goths, Persians, and
Saracens.' And the Emperor hesitated, and demanded three days' time for
consideration, and meanwhile Narses was to be allowed to look through
the papers in company with me, and to speak to Anicius and all
concerned. I soon perceived from the papers that the worst proof
against Belisarius--for I hoped to be able to explain away the consent
which he had written upon the tablet found in the house of Photius--was
the secret and midnight visits of Anicius, which Belisarius, Antonina,
and Anicius himself, obstinately and unreasonably denied. I then spoke
to Antonina in private. I told her that these visits and their denial
would be the ruin of Belisarius. Then she cried with sparkling eyes:
'Then I alone will be ruined, and Belisarius shall be saved! He really
knew nothing of these visits, for Anicius did not come to him--he came
to me. All the world shall know it--even Belisarius! He may kill me,
but he shall be saved!' And she gave me a little bundle of letters from
Anicius, which, certainly, when laid before the Emperor, would explain
everything, but would also accuse the _Empress_ in a terrible manner.
And how firmly stood Theodora at that time in the esteem of Justinian!
I hastened with these letters to Narses. He read them through and said,
'In this case, either Belisarius and all of us are ruined--or the
beautiful she-devil will fall! It is for life or death! First come with
me to Antonina once more.' And, accompanied by guards, and taking
Antonina with us, we hastened to Anicius, who was slowly recovering
from his wound in prison."
Cethegus stamped his foot; but he read on:
"And then we all four went to Justinian. The magnanimous sinner,
Antonina, confessed upon her knees the nightly meetings with Anicius,
which, however, she had only encouraged in order to deliver the youth
from the toils of the Empress. She gave the Emperor the letters of
Anicius, which spoke of the seductress, of her manifold arts, of the
secret passage to her chamber, and of the turning statue. The poor
Emperor broke out into a fearful rage; he would have arrested us all
upon the spot for leze majesty, for unlimited calumny. But Belisarius
said, 'Do that--to-morrow! But this evening, when the Empress sleeps,
let Anicius and me lead you through the turning statue into the chamber
of your wife, seize her letters, confront her with Antonina and
Anicius, subject the old witch Galatea to the torture, and then see if
you do not learn much more than you will like to hear. And if we have
deceived ourselves, punish us to-morrow as you like!' The turning,
statue! that was so palpable! The assurance of Anicius, that he had
often passed this secret door, was so provoking! Such things could
scarcely be invented. Justinian accepted our proposition. That very
night Anicius led the Emperor and us three into the garden adjoining
the Empress's apartments. A hollow plantain-tree concealed the mouth of
the subterranean passage which ended under the mosaic of Theodora's
ante-room. Until then, Justinian had still preserved his belief in the
Empress. But when Anicius pushed a marble slab to one side, and opened
a secret lock with a secret key that he had fetched from his house, and
the statue became visible, the Emperor, half fainting, sank back into
my arms. At last he roused himself, and pressed forward alone past the
statue into the chamber. Twilight filled the room. The dimly burning
lamp shone over the couch of Theodora. The poor befooled man went up to
her with a stealthy and unsteady step. There lay Theodora, fully
dressed in imperial garments. A shrill cry from the Emperor called us
to his side, and also Galatea from an adjoining chamber, whom I
immediately seized. Justinian, stiff with horror, pointed to the
couch--we stepped forward--the Empress was dead! Galatea, not less
startled than we, fell into convulsions. Meanwhile, we searched the
room, and found, upon a golden tripod, the ashes of numerous rolls of
parchment. Anicius called for slaves and lights. By this time Galatea
had recovered, and, wringing her hands, told how the Empress had left
her rooms towards evening--about the time of our audience--without
attendants, in order to visit the Emperor, as she frequently did at
that hour. She had returned almost immediately, very quiet, but
strikingly pale. She had ordered the tripod to be filled with glowing
coals, and had then locked herself up in her room. When Galatea knocked
some time later, she had answered that she had gone to rest, and
required nothing more. On hearing this, the Emperor threw himself again
upon the beloved corpse; and now, by the light of the lamps which had
been brought, he saw that the little ruby capsule, containing poison,
in the ring which had once belonged to Cleopatra, and which Theodora
wore upon her little finger, had been opened--the Empress had killed
herself! Upon the lemonwood table lay a strip of parchment, upon which
was written her favourite motto: 'To live is to rule by means of
beauty.' We were still in doubt whether it was the tortures of her
malady or the discovery of her threatened fall which had driven her to
this desperate deed. But our doubts were soon solved. When the news of
Theodora's death spread through the palace, Theophilos, the Emperor's
door-keeper, hurried, half desperate, into the chamber of death, threw
himself at the Emperor's feet, and confessed that he guessed the
connection. He had been for years in the secret service of the Empress,
and every time that the Emperor held an audience to which he had given
orders that the Empress was not to be admitted, he (the doorkeeper) had
apprised the latter of it. She had then almost always heard the most
secret councils of the Emperor from a hiding-place in the doorway of an
adjacent chamber. Thus yesterday he had, as usual, informed the Empress
that we were to have an audience, to which he had been particularly
ordered not to admit her. Presently she had entered her hiding-place,
but she had scarcely heard a few words spoken by Antonina and Anicius,
when, with a smothered cry, she had sank half fainting behind the
curtains; but, quickly rising, she had made a sign to him to keep
silence, and then disappeared.--Narses pressed the Emperor to question
Galatea upon the rack, but Justinian said, 'I will inquire no further.'
"Day and night he remained alone near the corpse of the still beloved
woman, after which he caused her to be interred, with the highest
imperial honours, in the church of St. Sophia. It was officially
published that the Empress had been suffocated by charcoal fumes while
sleeping. The tripod, with the ashes, was publicly exposed. But that
night had made Justinian an old man. The complete agreement of the
evidence of Antonina, Anicius, Belisarius, Photius, the slaves of
Antonina, the litter-bearers who had taken you to Belisarius's house
before his arrest--all fully proved that you, in conjunction with the
Empress, had persuaded Belisarius, through Antonina, to place himself
seemingly at the head of the conspirators; and I swore to the fact that
a few weeks ago he had expressed to me his just anger at the project of
Photius.
"Justinian hastened to the cell where Belisarius was confined, embraced
him with tears, begged his forgiveness for himself and for Antonina,
who remorsefully confessed all her innocent love-makings, and obtained
full pardon. The Emperor, in atonement, begged Belisarius to accept the
chief command in Italy. But Belisarius said, 'No, Justinian; my work on
earth is finished. I shall retire with Antonina to my most distant
villa in Mesopotamia, and there bury myself and my past. I am cured of
the wish to serve you. If you will grant me a last favour, then give
the command of the army in Italy to my friend and preserver, Narses. He
shall revenge me upon the Goths, and upon that Satan called Cethegus!'
And the two great enemies embraced before our sympathetic eyes. All
this was buried in the deepest secrecy, in order to spare the memory of
the Empress; for Justinian still loves her. It was announced that the
innocence of Belisarius had been fully proved by Narses, Tribonianus,
and me, by means of lately-discovered letters of the conspirators.
Justinian pardoned all who had been sentenced; also Scaevola and
Albinus, who were formerly undone by you. But I tell you the whole
truth, in order to warn and save you. For, although I do not know in
what way, I am quite convinced that Justinian has sworn your ruin, and
entrusted your destruction to the hands of Narses. Your design to found
a free and recognised Rome, ruled only by yourself, was madness. To it
you have sacrificed everything--even our fair friendship. I shall
accompany Belisarius and Antonina, and I will try, in the contemplation
of their complete reconciliation and happiness, to forget the disgust,
doubt, and vexation with which all human affairs have filled me."
CHAPTER XII.
Cethegus sprang from his seat, tossed the letter down, and hastily
paced his tent.
"Feeble creature! and weak-minded Cethegus! to vex yourself that
another soul is lost to you! Had you not lost Julius long before you
killed him? And yet you still live and strive! And this Narses, whom
all fear as if he were God and devil in one--is he, then, really so
dangerous? Impossible! He has blindly entrusted Rome to me and mine. It
is not his fault that I do not defy him at this moment from the
Capitol. Bah! I cannot learn to be afraid in my old days. I trust in my
star! Is it foolhardiness? Is it the calmest wisdom? I do not know; but
it seems to me that confidence like this led Caesar from victory to
victory! However, I can scarcely learn more from the secret council of
Narses in his bath-house than I have learned from this letter." And he
tore the papyrus roll into small pieces. "I will start this very day,
even if Syphax has overheard nothing at this moment, for I think it is
the hour of the bath."
Just then Johannes was announced, and, at a sign from Cethegus, was
admitted.
"Prefect of Rome," said Johannes, "I am come to beg pardon for an old
injury. The pain I felt at the loss of my brother Perseus made me
suspicious."
"Let that rest," said Cethegus; "it is forgotten."
"But I have not forgotten," continued Johannes, "your heroic valour. In
order at once to honour it and profit by it, I come to you with a
proposal. I and my comrades, used to Belisarius's straightforward
attacks, find the caution of the great Narses very tiresome. We have
now been lying for nearly two months before this cursed pass; we lose
men and win no renown. The commander-in-chief will starve the
barbarians out. Who knows how long that may last? And there will be a
fine butchery if, at last driven by despair, the barbarians break out
and sell dearly every drop of their blood! It is clear that if we only
had the mouth of that confounded pass----"
"Yes, _if_!" said Cethegus, smiling. "It is not ill-defended by this
Teja."
"Just on that account he must fall! He, the King, is evidently the only
one who holds together the whole loose bundle of spears. Therefore I
and more than a dozen of the best blades in the camp have formed a
league. Whenever it is the King's turn to guard the pass--the approach
is so narrow and steep, that only one at a time can attempt a
hand-to-hand fight--we, one after the other, taking our turns by lot,
will attack him; the others will keep as close as possible to the
foremost combatant, will save him if wounded, step into his place when
he falls, or, if he is victor and slays the Goth, press forward into
the ravine. Besides me, there are the Longobardians Alboin, Gisulf, and
Autharis, the Herulians Rodulf and Suartua, Ardarich the Gepide,
Gunebad the Burgundian, Chlotachar and Bertchramn the Franks, Vadomar
and Epurulf the Alamannians, Garizo the tall Bajuvar, Kabades the
Persian, Althias the Armenian, and Taulantius the Illyrian. We should
much like to have your terrible sword among us. Will you, Cethegus, be
one in our league? I know you hate this black-haired hero."
"Gladly," said Cethegus, "as long as I am here. But I shall soon
exchange this camp for the Capitol."
A strange and mocking smile passed across the face of Johannes, which
did not escape Cethegus. But he attributed it to a wrong feeling.
"You cannot well doubt my courage," he said, "according to your own
words. But there are more important things for me to do than to stamp
out the last glimmering sparks of the Gothic war. The orphaned city
longs for her Prefect. The Capitol beckons me."
"The Capitol!" repeated Johannes. "I think, Cethegus, that a heroic
death is also worth something."
"Yes, when the aim of one's life is reached."
"But no one knows, O Cethegus, how near he has approached his aim. But,
another thing: it seems to me as if something is in preparation among
the barbarians on their cursed mountain. From the hill near my quarters
we can peep a little, through a gap, over the peaks of the lava. I
should like you to turn your practised eye in that direction. At least,
they shall not surprise us by a sally. Follow me thither. But do not
speak of our league to Narses; he does not approve of such things. I
purposely chose the hour of his bath for my visit to you."
"I will come," said Cethegus.
He finished putting on his armour, and, after vainly inquiring for
Syphax of the Isaurian sentry, went with Johannes through his own and
the central camp of Narses, and finally turned into that on the right
wing--the camp of Johannes.
Upon the crown of the little hill mentioned by Johannes stood a great
many officers, who were eagerly looking through a small gap in the lava
into the portion of the Gothic encampment visible to them.
When Cethegus had looked for some time, he cried:
"There is no doubt about it! They are evacuating this easternmost part
of their position; they are pushing the wagons, which were drawn
together, apart, and dragging them farther to the right, to the west.
That must mean concentration; perhaps a sally."
"What do you think, Johannes?" quietly asked a young captain, who had
evidently only lately arrived from Byzantium, and who was a stranger to
Cethegus, "what do you think? Could not the new catapults reach the
barbarians from the point of that rock? I mean the last inventions of
Martinus--such as my brother took to Rome."
"_To Rome?_" repeated Cethegus, and cast a sharp look at the questioner
and at Johannes.
He felt himself suddenly turn hot and cold--a fright came over him,
more terrible still than he had experienced when he had heard of the
landing of Belisarius, of Totila's election, of Totila's march to Rome
at _Pons Padi_, of Totila's entrance into the Tiber; or of the arrival
of Narses in Italy. It seemed to him as if an iron hand were clutching
his heart and brain. He saw that Johannes imposed silence on the young
questioner with a furious frown.
"_To Rome?_" again repeated Cethegus in a low voice, and fixing his
eyes, now upon the stranger, now upon Johannes.
"Well, yes, of course, to Rome!" at last answered Johannes. "Zenon,
this man is Cethegus, the Prefect of Rome."
The young Byzantine bowed with the expression of one who sees for the
first time some far-famed monster.
"Cethegus, Zenon here, a captain who till now has been fighting on the
Euphrates, arrived only yesterday evening with some Persian bowmen from
Byzantium."
"And his brother," asked Cethegus, "has gone to _Rome_?"
"My brother Megas," quietly answered the Byzantine--who had now
collected himself--"had the order to offer to the Prefect of Rome"--and
here he again bowed--"the newly-invented double-catapults for the walls
of Rome. He embarked long before me; so I thought that he had already
arrived, and was gone to you in Rome. But his freight is very heavy. I
am rejoiced to become personally acquainted with the most powerful man
of the West, the glorious defender of the Tomb of Hadrian."
But Cethegus cast another sharp look at Johannes, and, abruptly bowing
to all present, turned to go.
When he had gone a few paces he suddenly looked back, and caught sight
of Johannes, with both his fists raised in anger, scolding at the
talkative young archon. A cold shudder ran through the Prefect. He
intended to reach his tent by the shortest cut, and, without waiting
for Syphax and his discoveries, to mount his horse and hasten to Rome
without taking leave.
The shortest way to get to his tent was to leave the camp of Johannes,
and walk along the straight line of the semicircle formed by the whole
encampment. In front of him a few Persian bowmen were riding out of the
camp commanded by Johannes. And some peasants who had sold wine to the
soldiers were also permitted to pass unhindered by the sentinels. These
sentries were all Longobardians, to whom, as everywhere, the exits of
this camp were entrusted by Narses.
As Cethegus was about to follow his countrymen, these sentries stopped
him with their spears. He caught at the shafts and angrily pushed them
aside. At this one of the Longobardians blew his horn; the others
pressed more closely round Cethegus.
"By order of Narses!" said Autharis, the captain.
"And those?" asked Cethegus, pointing to the peasants and the Persians.
"Those are not you," said the Longobardian.
At the sound of the horn a troop of guards had hurried up. They bent
their bows. Cethegus silently turned his back on them and returned to
his tent by the way that he had come.
Perhaps it was only his suddenly-aroused mistrust which made him
imagine that all the Byzantines and Longobardians whom he passed
regarded him with half-jeering, half-compassionate looks. When he
reached his tent he asked the Isaurian sentry:
"Is Syphax back?"
"Yes, sir, long since. He is impatiently waiting for you in the tent.
He is wounded."
Cethegus quickly pushed aside the curtains and entered. Syphax, deadly
pale beneath his bronzed skin, rushed to meet him, embraced his knees,
and whispered in passionate and desperate excitement:
"O my master! my lion! You are ensnared--lost--nothing can save you!"
"Compose yourself, slave!" said Cethegus. "You bleed?"
"It is nothing! They would not permit me to return to your camp--they
began to struggle with me as if in joke, but their dagger-stabs were
bitter earnest."
"Who? Whose dagger-stabs?"
"The Longobardians, master, who have placed double guards at all the
entrances of your camp."
"Narses shall give me a reason for this," said Cethegus angrily.
"The reason--that is, the pretext--he sent Kabades to inform you of
it--is a menaced sally by the Goths. But oh! my lion, my eagle, my
palm-tree, my wellspring--you are lost!"
And again the Numidian threw himself at his master's feet, covering
them with tears and kisses.
"Tell me coherently," said Cethegus, "what you have heard."
And he leaned against the central support of his tent, crossing his
arms behind his back, and raising his head. He did not seem to regard
the troubled face of Syphax, but to gaze at vacancy.
"O sir--I shall not be able to tell it very clearly--but I succeeded in
reaching my hiding-place among the sea-weed. It was scarcely necessary
to dive--the weeds hid me sufficiently. The bathing-house is made of
thin wood and has been newly covered with linen since the last storm.
Narses came in his little boat with Alboin, Basiliskos, and three other
men, disguised as Longobardians--but I recognised Scaevola, Albinus----"
"They are not dangerous," interrupted Cethegus.
"And--Anicius!"
"Are you not mistaken?" asked Cethegus sharply.
"Sir, I knew his eyes and his voice! From their conversation--I did not
understand every word--but the sense was clear----"
"Would that you could repeat their very words!"
"They spoke Greek, sir, and I do not understand it as well as your
language--and the waves made a noise, and the wind was unfavourable."
"Well, what did they say?"
"The three men only came from Byzantium yesterday evening--they at once
demanded your head. But Narses said, 'No murder! A just sentence after
a process in all form.' 'When is it to be?' asked Anicius. 'So soon as
it is time.' 'And Rome?' asked Basiliskos. 'He will never see Rome
again!' answered Narses."
"Stop!" cried Cethegus. "Wait a moment. I must be quite clear."
He wrote a few lines upon a wax tablet.
"Has Narses returned from his bath?"
"Long ago."
"'Tis well." He gave the tablet to the sentinel at the door. "Bring
back the answer immediately.--Continue, Syphax."
But Cethegus could no longer stand still. He began hastily to pace the
tent.
"O sir, something monstrous must have happened at Rome--I could not
exactly understand what. Anicius put a question; in it he named your
Isaurians. Narses said, 'I am rid of the chief Sandil,' and he added,
laughing, 'and the rest are well cared for in Rome by Aulus and the
brothers Macer, my decoy-birds.'"
"Did he name those names?" asked Cethegus grimly. "Did he use that
word?"
"Yes, sir. Then Alboin said, 'It is well that the young tribunes are
gone; it would have cost a hard fight.' And Narses replied, 'All the
Prefect's Isaurians must go. Shall we fight a bloody battle in our own
camp, and let King Teja burst in upon us?' O sir, I fear that they have
enticed your most faithful followers away from you with evil intent."
"I believe so too," said Cethegus gravely. "But what did they say about
Rome?"
"Alboin asked after a leader whose name I had never heard before."
"Megas?" asked Cethegus.
"Yes, Megas! That was it. How did you know?"
"No matter. Continue! What about this Megas?"
"Alboin asked how long Megas had been in Rome. Narses said, 'In any
case long enough for the Roman tribunes and the Isaurians.'"
Cethegus groaned aloud.
"But," continued Syphax, "Scaevola remarked that the citizens of Rome
idolised their tyrant and his young knights. 'Yes.' answered Narses,
'formerly; but now they hate and fear nothing so much as the man who
tried by force once more to make them brave men and Romans.' Then
Albinus asked, 'But if they were to take his part again? His name has
an all-conquering influence.' Narses answered, 'Twenty-five thousand
Armenians in the Capitol and the Mausoleum will bind the Romans----'"
Cethegus struck his fist fiercely on his forehead.
"'Will bind them more strictly than Pope Pelagius, their treaty, or
their oath.' 'Their treaty and their oath?' asked Scaevola. 'Yes,'
answered Narses, 'their oath and treaty! They have sworn only to open
their gates to the Prefect of Rome.' 'Well, and then?' asked Anicius.
'Well', they know, and they knew then, that now the Prefect of Rome is
called--Narses. _To me, not to him_ have, they sworn!'"
Cethegus threw himself upon his couch and hid his face in his
purple-hemmed mantle. No loud complaint issued from his heaving chest.
"Oh, my dear master!" cried Syphax, "it will kill you! But I have not
yet finished. You must know all. Despair will give you strength, as it
does to the snared lion."
Cethegus raised his head.
"Finish," he said. "What I have still to hear is indifferent; it can
only concern me, not Rome."
"But it concerns you in a fearful manner! Narses went on to say, after
a few speeches which escaped me in the noise of the waves--that
yesterday, at the same time as the long-expected news from Rome----"
"What news?" asked Cethegus.
"He did not mention what. He said, 'At the same time, Zenon brought me
word to open the sealed orders which I carry from the Emperor; for the
latter rightly judges that any day may bring about the destruction of
the Goths. I opened and'--O master, it is dreadful----"
"Speak!"
"Narses said, 'All the great Justinian's littleness is exposed in these
orders. I believe he would more easily pardon Cethegus for having
enticed him to blind Belisarius, than for having been in collusion with
Theodora, for having been the seducer of the Empress! A frightful
anachron'--I did not understand the word."
"Anachronism!" said Cethegus, quietly righting Syphax.
"'For having deceived and outwitted him. The fate which Cethegus almost
brought upon Belisarius, will now fall upon his own head--the loss of
his sight.'"
"Really!" said Cethegus with a smile. But he involuntarily felt for his
dagger.
"Narses said further," continued Syphax, "that you were to suffer the
punishment which, in blasphemous desecration of Christ's death, and
contrary to the law of the Emperor Constantine, you had lately
introduced into Rome. What can he mean by that?" added Syphax
anxiously.
"Crucifixion!" said Cethegus as he put up his dagger.
"O master!"
"Softly! I do not yet hang in the air. I still firmly tread the
hero-nourishing earth. Conclude!"
"Narses said that he was a general and no executioner, and that the
Emperor would have to be contented if he only sent him your head to
Byzantium. But oh, not that! Only not that--if we _must_ die!"
"We?" said Cethegus, who had fully gained his usual calmness. "_You_
have not deceived the great Emperor. The danger does not threaten you."
But Syphax continued:
"Do you not know then? Oh, do not doubt it. All Africa knows that if
the head of a corpse is wanting, the soul must creep for ages through
dust and mire, in the shape of a vile and filthy headless worm. Oh,
they shall not separate your head from your trunk!"
"It still stands firm upon these shoulders of mine, like the globe on
the shoulders of Atlas. Peace--some one comes."
The Isaurian who had been sent to Narses, entered with a sealed letter.
"To Cethegus Caesarius: Narses, the magister militum. There is nothing
to prevent your carrying out your wish to go to Rome."
"Now I understand," said Cethegus, and read on:
"The sentinels have orders to let you ride forth. But, if you insist
upon going, I will give you a thousand Longobardians under Alboin as an
escort, for the roads are very unsafe. As, in all probability, an
attempt will be made by the Goths, to-day or tomorrow, to break through
our lines, and repeated foolhardy sallies on the part of my soldiers
have led to the loss of leaders and troops, I have ordered that no one
be permitted to leave the camp without my express permission, and have
entrusted the watch, even that of the tents, to my Longobardians."
Cethegus sprang to the entrance of his tent, and tore the curtains
open. His four Isaurians were just being led away. Twenty
Longobardians, under Autharis, drew up before the tent.
"I had thought of escaping to-night," he said to Syphax, turning back.
"It is now impossible. But it is better so, more dignified. Rather a
Gothic spear in my breast, than a Grecian arrow in my back. But I have
not yet read all that Narses writes."
He read on:
"If you will come to my tent, you will learn what measures I have taken
against the probably great bloodshed which will ensue if the barbarians
venture to sally, as they threaten. But I have still a painful
communication to make to you. News, which reached me yesterday evening
by sea from Rome, informs me that your tribunes and the greater part of
the Isaurians have been killed."
"Ah! Licinius, Piso, Julianus!" cried the Prefect, startled out of his
icy and defiant calmness by deep pain.
After a pause he controlled his emotion sufficiently to take up the
letter and read on:
"When they had been quietly admitted into the city (shamefully
decoyed!) they refused to take the oath of allegiance to the Emperor.
They tried, contrary to their promise, to use force. Lucius Licinius
attempted to take the Capitol by storm; Piso, the Porta Latina; Salvus
Julianus, the Mausoleum. They fell, each before the place which he
attacked. What remained of the Isaurians were taken prisoners."
"My second Julius follows the first!" cried Cethegus. "Well, I do not
need an heir, for Rome will never now be mine! It is over! The great
struggle for Rome is over! And brute force, small cunning, has
conquered the mind of Cethegus as it did the sword of the Goth. O
Romans, Romans! _You, too, my sons?_ You are my Brutus. Come, Syphax,
you are free. I go to meet death. Go back to your deserts."
"O master!" cried Syphax, sobbing passionately, as he crouched at the
feet of Cethegus. "Do not send me from you! I am not less faithful than
Aspa! Let me die with you!"
"Be it so," said Cethegus quietly, and laying his hand upon the Moor's
head. "I have loved you, my panther! Then die with me. Give me my helm,
shield, sword, and spear."
"Whither go you?"
"First to Narses."
"And then?"
"To Vesuvius!"
CHAPTER XIII.
King Teja's intention was to throw himself at night with all his armed
men--except a few guards who would be left in the ravine--into the camp
of Narses, and there, favoured by the darkness and surprise, to commit
great carnage.
Then, when the last of his warriors had fallen, and--probably at
daybreak--the enemy prepared to assault the pass, the unarmed
people--at least those who did not prefer slavery to death--were to
seek an honourable grave in the neighbouring crater of Vesuvius, after
which the few remaining defendants of the pass would sally forth and
die fighting.
When the King called his people together, and left the alternative to
their choice, he was filled with pride and joy to find that not one
voice among the thousands of women and children--for all the boys from
ten years of age and all the old men were armed--was raised in favour
of dishonour rather than death. His hero soul rejoiced in the thought
that his whole race, by a deed unheard of in the history of nations,
would die a glorious and heroic death, and worthily seal the renown of
their great past.
However, the despairing idea of the grim hero was not to be carried
out. His dying eyes were to behold a brighter and more consoling
picture. Narses, ever watchful and wary, had noticed the mysterious
preparations of his enemies even sooner than Johannes and Cethegus, and
had called a meeting of generals, which was to be held in his tent at
the fifth hour, in order to explain to them his counter-measures.
It was a lovely September morning, full of shining light and shining
mist over land and sea; a golden glow, such as, even in Italy, is only
poured forth in like wondrous beauty over the Bay of Neapolis.
Into the clear sky curled the white cloud of smoke from the summit of
Vesuvius. Upon the curved line of the shore the smooth and gentle waves
rolled in a rhythmic measure. Close to the edge of the water--so close
that the ripples of the waves often wetted his steel-shod feet--a
lonely man walked slowly along, carrying his spear over his shoulder,
and apparently coming from the left wing of the Byzantine army. The sun
glistened upon his round shield, upon his splendid armour. The
sea-breeze played with his crimson crest.
It was Cethegus; and the way he was going led to the gates of death. He
was followed at a short distance by the Moor. He soon reached a little
promontory which stretched out into the bay, and going to its outer
point, he turned and looked towards the northwest. There lay Rome--his
Rome.
"Farewell!" he cried with deep emotion; "farewell, ye seven immortal
hills! Farewell, old Tiber stream! thou that hast laved the venerable
ruins through many centuries. Twice hast thou tasted my blood; twice
hast thou saved my life. Now, kindly River-god, thou canst save me no
more! I have striven and fought for thee, my Rome, as none of thy
children, not even Caesar, has ever done before.--The struggle is over;
the general without an army is vanquished. I now acknowledge that a
mighty intellect may possibly supply the place of a single man, but not
the want of a whole nation's patriotism. Intellect can preserve its own
youth, but it cannot renew that of others, I have tried to do what is
impossible; for to do only what is possible is common; and it is better
to fall striving for the superhuman than to be lost in dull resignation
among the common herd. But"--and he kneeled down and wet his hot
forehead with the salt water--"be thou blessed, Ansonia's sacred flood;
be thou blessed, Italians sacred soil!"--and he put his hand deep into
the sea sand--"thy most faithful son parts from thee with a thankful
heart--moved, not by the terrors of approaching death, but only by thy
beauty. I forebode for thee, Italia, an oppressive foreign rule; I have
not been able to turn it aside, but I have offered up my heart's blood;
and if the laurels of thy Empire are for ever withered--may the olive
of thy people's love of freedom still bloom amid the ruins of thy
cities, and may the day quickly come when no foreign master rules in
all the length and breadth of the land, and when thou art mistress of
thyself from the sacred Alps to the sacred sea!"
He rose quietly, and now walked more rapidly through the centre camp to
the tent of the commander-in-chief. When he entered it, he found all
the generals and officers assembled. Narses called to him in a friendly
voice, saying:
"You come at the right moment, Cethegus. Twelve of my officers, whom I
have discovered in a foolish league, such as barbarians, but not the
scholars oL Narses, might make, have appealed to you in excuse. They
say that what is shared in by the wise Cethegus cannot be foolish.
Speak! have you really joined this league against Teja?"
"I have; and when I leave you--let me be the first, Johannes, without
casting lots--I go straight to Vesuvius. The hour of the King's watch
approaches."
"This pleases me, Cethegus."
"Thanks. It will, no doubt, save you much trouble, _Prefect of Rome_,"
answered Cethegus.
A movement of extreme surprise escaped all present; for even those who
were initiated into the secret were amazed that Cethegus knew the
position of affairs.
Narses alone remained unmoved. He merely said in a low voice to
Basiliskos:
"He knows all, and it is well that he does so." Then he turned to
Cethegus and said: "It is not my fault, Cethegus, that I did not tell
you sooner of your dismissal; the Emperor had strictly forbidden me to
do so. I approve of your resolve, for it agrees with my best
intentions.--The barbarians shall not have the pleasure of slaying
another myriad of my people tonight. We will march forward at once with
all our troops, including both our wings, to within a spear's throw
from the pass. We will not leave the Goths room to sally far out. The
first step they take beyond the mouth of the ravine shall be amongst
our spears. I have also nothing to object, Cethegus, if volunteers
offer to fight that King of terrors. With his death, I hope, the
resistance of the Goths will cease. Only one thing makes me anxious. I
have long ago ordered up the Ionian fleet--for I expected that all
would be over a few days earlier--and yet it has not arrived. The ships
are to take the captured barbarians on board at once, and carry them to
Byzantium.--Has the swift-sailer which I sent to gather news beyond the
Straits, of Regium not yet returned. Captain Konon?"
"No, general. Neither has a second swift ship, which I sent after the
first."
"Can the late storm have damaged the fleet?"
"Impossible, general! It was not violent enough. And the fleets
according to the last reports, lay safe at anchor in the harbour of
Brundusium."
"Well, we cannot wait for the ships! Forward, my leaders! We will march
at once to the pass. Farewell, Cethegus! Do not let your dismissal
disquiet you. I fear that you will be menaced with many a troublesome
process when the war is ended. You have many enemies, rightly and
wrongly. There are bad omens against you. But I know that from the very
beginning you have believed in only one omen--'The only omen'----"
"'Is to die for the fatherland!' Grant me one more favour, Narses.
Allow me--for my Isaurians and tribunes are in Rome--to gather round me
all the Italians and Romans whom you have divided among your troops,
and lead them against the barbarians."
For one moment Narses hesitated. Then he said:
"Well, go; gather them together and lead them--to death," he added in a
low voice to Basiliskos. "There are at most fifteen hundred men. I do
not grudge him the pleasure of falling at the head of his countrymen.
Nor them the pleasure of falling behind him!--Farewell, Cethegus."
Silently greeting Narses with his uplifted spear, Cethegus left the
tent.
"H'm!" said Narses to Alboin, "you may well look after him,
Longobardian. There goes a remarkable piece of universal history. Do
you know who that is marching away?"
"A great enemy to his enemies," said Alboin gravely.
"Yes, wolf, look at him again; there goes to his death--the last
Roman!"
When all the leaders, except Basiliskos and Alboin, had left Narses,
there hurried into the tent from behind a curtain, Anicius, Scaevola,
and Albinus, still in the disguise of Longobardians, and with faces
full of alarm.
"What!" cried Scaevola, "will you save that man from his judges?"
"And his body from the executioner; and his fortune from his accusers?"
added Albinus.
Anicius was silent; he only clenched his hand upon the hilt of his
sword.
"General," said Alboin, "let these two brawlers put off the dress of my
people. I am disgusted with them."
"You are not wrong there, wolf!" said Narses; and turning to the others
he said, "you need no further disguise. You are useless to me as
accusers. Cethegus is judged; and the sentence will be carried out--by
King Teja. But you, you ravens, shall not hack at the hero after he is
dead."
"And the order of the Emperor?" asked Scaevola stubbornly.
"Even Justinian cannot blind and crucify a dead man. When Cethegus
Caesarius has fallen, I cannot wake him up again to please the Emperor's
cruelty. And of his money, you, Albinus, shall not receive a single
solidus, nor you, Scaevola, one drop of his blood. His gold is for the
Emperor, his blood for the Goths, and his name for immortality."
"Do you wish the death of a hero for that wretch?" now asked Anicius
angrily.
"Yes, son of Boethius; for he has deserved it! But you have a veritable
right to revenge yourself on him--you shall behead the fallen man, and
take his head to the Emperor at Byzantium. Do you not hear the tuba?
The fight has commenced!"
CHAPTER XIV.
When King Teja saw the whole of Narses' forces advancing towards the
mouth of the pass, he said to his heroes:
"It seems that instead of the stars, the mid-day sun is to shine upon
the last battle of the Goths! That is the only change in our plan."
He then placed a number of warriors in front of the hollow in the lava,
showed them the royal treasure and the corpse of Theodoric, raised upon
a purple throne, and ordered them to pay attention while the fight for
the pass was raging, and, on receiving a sign from Adalgoth--to whom
and Wachis he had confided the last defence of the pass--at once to
throw the throne and the coffers into the crater. The unarmed people
pressed together round the lava cave--not a tear was seen, not a sigh
was heard.
Teja arranged his men into hundreds, and these hundreds into families,
so that father and sons, brothers and cousins, fought at each other's
side; an order of battle the terrible obstinacy of which the Romans had
often experienced since the days of the Cimbrians and Teutons, of
Ariovist and Armin. The natural construction of the last battlefield of
the Goths necessitated of itself the old order of battle inherited from
Odin--the wedge.
The deep and close columns of the Byzantines now stood in orderly ranks
from the shore of the sea to within a spear's throw from the mouth of
the pass: a magnificent but fearful spectacle. The sun shone brightly
upon their weapons, while the Goths still stood in the deep shadow of
the rocks. Far away over the spears and standards of the enemy, the
Goths beheld the lovely blue sea, the surface of which flashed with a
silvery light.
King Teja stood near Adalgoth, who carried the banner of Theodoric, at
the mouth of the pass. All the poet was roused in the Hero-King.
"Look!" he said to his favourite, "what more lovely place could a man
have to die in? It cannot be more beautiful in the heaven of the
Christian, nor in Master Hildebrand's Asgard or Breidablick. Up,
Adalgoth! Let us die here, worthy of our nation and of this beauteous
death-place."
He threw back the purple mantle which he wore over his black steel
armour, took the little harp upon his left arm, and sang in a low,
restrained voice:
"From farthest North till Rome--Byzant--
The Goths to battle call!
In glory rose the Goths' bright star--
In glory shall it fall!
Our swords raised high, we fight for fame;
Heroes with heroes vie;
Farewell, thou noble hero-race--
Up, Goths, and let us die!"
And he shattered the still vibrating harp upon the rocks at his feet.
"And now, Adalgoth, farewell! Would that I could have saved the rest of
my people! Not here; but by an unobstructed retreat to the north. It
was not to be. Narses would never grant it, and the last of the Goths
cannot _beg_. Now let us go--to death!"
And raising his dreaded weapon, the mighty battleaxe with its
lance-like shaft, he stepped to the head of the "wedge," Behind
him Aligern, his cousin, and old Hildebrand. Behind them Duke Guntharis
of Tuscany, the Woelfung, Earl Grippa of Ravenna, and Earl Wisand
of Volsinii, the standard-bearer. Behind them again, Wisand's
brother, Ragnaris of Tarentum, and four earls, his kinsmen. Then, in
ever-broadening front, first six, then ten Goths. The rear was formed
of close ranks, arranged by tens.
Wachis, halting in the pass near Adalgoth, blew, at a sign from the
King, a signal on the Gothic war-horn, and the assaulting force marched
out of the ravine.
The heroes in league with Johannes stood upon the first level place
close before the pass; only Alboin, Gisulf, and Cethegus were still
missing. Next behind the ten leaders stood Longobardians and Herulians,
who at once greeted the advancing Goths with a hail of spears.
The first to rush upon the King, who was easily recognisable by the
crown upon his helmet, was Althias the Armenian. He fell dead at once,
his skull split to the ears.
The second was the Herulian, Rodulf. Holding his spear at his left side
with both hands, he rushed at Teja. Teja stood firm, and, receiving the
stroke upon his narrow shield, pierced his adversary through the body
with the lance-like point of his battle-axe. Rodulf staggered back at
the shock, then fell dead.
Before Teja could disengage his weapon from the scales of his enemy's
mail-coat, Suartua, the nephew of the fallen Herulian, the Persian
Kabades, and the Bajuvar Garizo, all attacked him at once.
Teja thrust back the last--the nearest and boldest--with such vigour,
that he fell in the narrow and slippery lava path, and over a declivity
on the right.
"Now help, O holy virgin of Neapolis!" cried the tall man as he flew
downwards. "Help me, as you have done during all these years of war!"
And, but little damaged, Miriam's admirer came to a stop, slightly
stunned by his fall.
The Herulian Suartua was brandishing his sword over Teja's head, when
Aligern, springing forward, struck his arm clean off his shoulder.
Suartua screamed and fell.
Kabades, who tried to rip up the King's body with his long and crooked
scimetar, had his brains dashed out by old Hildebrand's stone axe.
Teja, again become master of his battle-axe, and rid of his nearest
foes, now sprang forward to attack in his turn. He hurled his axe at a
man in a boar-helmet--that is, a helmet decorated with the head and
tusks of a wild boar. It was Epurulf, the Alamannian, who fell
backwards to the ground.
Above Teja bent Vadomar, Epurulf's kinsman, and tried to possess
himself of the Gothic King's terrible weapon; but Teja was upon him in
a moment, his short sword in his right hand. It flashed, and Vadomar
fell dead upon the corpse of his friend.
The two Franks, Chlotachar and Bertchramn, hurried up at the same
moment, swinging the franciska, a weapon similar to Teja's battle-axe.
Both axes whizzed through the air at once. Teja caught one upon his
shield; the second, which came hurtling at his head, he parried with
his own axe, and in another moment he stood between his two
adversaries, whirled his axe round him in a circle, and at one blow the
two Franks fell right and left, both their helmets beaten in.
At that moment a spear struck the King's shield; it pierced the steel
rim, and slightly grazed his arm. As he turned to meet this enemy--it
was the Burgundian Gundobad--Ardarich, the Gepide, ran at him from
behind with his drawn sword, and struck him a heavy blow on the top of
his helmet. But the next moment Ardarich fell, pierced through by the
spear of Duke Guntharis; and the King pressed Gundobad, who defended
himself valiantly, down upon his knees. Gundobad lost his helmet in the
struggle, and Teja thrust the spike of his shield into his throat.
But already Taulantius the Illyrian and Autharis the Longobardian stood
before Teja. The Illyrian struck at the King's shield with a heavy club
made of the root of the ilex, and broke off a piece of the lower rim.
At the same time, just above the crack thus made, a lance, hurled by
the Longobardian, struck the shield and tore off the fastening of the
spike, sticking with its hook into the hole, and dragging the shield
down by its weight.
Already Taulantius raised his club over the King's head. But Teja did
not loiter; sacrificing his half-shattered shield, he dashed it into
the Illyrian's visorless face, letting it go; and almost at the same
moment he thrust the point of his battle-axe through the breast-plate
of Autharis, who was rushing upon him. But now the King stood without a
shield, and his distant enemies redoubled their hail of spears and
arrows. With axe and sword, Teja parried the thickly falling darts.
An alarum from the pass caused him to look round. He saw that the
greater part of the warriors whom he had led out of the ravine had
fallen. The innumerable projectiles hurled from a distance had done
their deadly work, and already, advancing from the left, a powerful
division of Longobardians, Persians, and Armenians, had attacked them
in the flank, and now mingled in a hand-to-hand fight.
On the right the King saw a column of Thracians, Macedonians, and
Franks press forward against the guardians of the pass with spears
couched; while a third division--Gepidians, Alamannians, Isaurians, and
Illyrians, tried to cut off himself and the small troop which still
stood at his back from the retreat into the pass.
Teja looked sharply towards the pass. For a moment the banner of
Theodoric disappeared--it seemed to have fallen. This circumstance
decided the King.
"Back into the pass! Save Theodoric's banner!" he cried to those behind
him, and tried to break through the troop of enemies which surrounded
him.
But they were in terrible earnest, for they were led by Johannes.
"Upon the King," lie cried. "Do not let him through. Do not let him go
back! Spears! Throw!"
Aligern had come up.
"Take my shield!" he cried.
Teja caught the proffered shield just in time to receive the lance
hurled by Johannes, which would otherwise have pierced his visor.
"Back to the pass!" again Teja cried, and rushed with such impetuosity
upon Johannes, that the latter fell to the ground. The two nearest
Isaurians succumbed to Teja's sword.
And now Teja, Aligern, Guntharis, Hildebrand, Grippa, Wisand and
Ragnaris hurried back to the pass. But here the battle was already
raging. Alboin and Gisulf had stormed the pass, and a heavy, pointed
block of lava, hurled by Alboin, had struck Adalgoth on the thigh, and
caused him to sink upon his knees. But Wachis had caught the falling
banner, and Adalgoth, quickly rising, had pushed the Longobardian, who
was pressing forward, out of the pass with the spike of his shield.
The sudden return of the King with his little troop of heroes relieved
the almost overpowered guardians of the pass. The Longobardians fell in
heaps before the unexpected assault in their rear. With loud cries the
two guardians of the pass rushed forth, and the Longobardians, carrying
their leaders along irresistibly, ran and leaped over the jagged lava
in their downward retreat. But they did not run far. They were absorbed
by the ranks of Isaurians, and Illyrians, Gepidians and Alamannians,
who advanced in force, led by Johannes. Gnashing his teeth, he had
risen from his fall, had set his helmet straight, and at once led his
men against the pass, into which Teja had now entered.
"Forward!" cried Johannes; "up and at him, Alboin, Gisulf, Vitalianus,
Zenon! Let us see if this King be really spear-proof!"
Teja had now taken up his old position at the mouth of the pass, and
leaning upon the shaft of his battle-axe, he rested awhile to cool
himself.
"Now, barbarian King! the end is at hand! Have you crept again into
your snail-shell? Come out, or I will make a hole in your house. Come
out, if you be a man!"
Thus cried Johannes, twirling his spear over his head in defiance.
"Give me three spears!" cried Teja, and gave his shield and battle-axe
to Adalgoth, who stood near him still, though wounded. "There! Now, as
soon as he falls, follow me out."
And he took one step forward out of the pass, without his shield, and
holding his three spears in his hands.
"Welcome to the open! and to death!" cried Johannes, as he hurled his
spear.
The spear was accurately aimed at the King's visor. But Teja bent to
one side, and the strong ashen lance was shattered against the opposite
rock.
As soon as Teja hurled his first spear in return, Johannes cast himself
upon his face; the spear flew over him and killed Zenon, who stood
close behind.
Johannes quickly recovered his feet, and rushed at the King like
lightning, catching the King's second spear, which immediately followed
the first, upon his shield. But Teja, immediately after hurling this
second lance with his right hand, had followed it up by a third with
his left, and this spear, unnoticed by Johannes, passed completely
through the latter's body, the point coming out at his back. The brave
man fell.
At this his Isaurians and Illyrians were seized with terror; for, after
Belisarius, Johannes was looked upon as the first hero of Byzantium.
They cried aloud, turned, and fled in wild disorder down the mountain,
followed by Teja and his heroes. For one moment the Longobardians, who
had again collected together, still held firm.
"Come, Gisulf--clench your teeth--let us stand against this
death-dealing King," cried Alboin.
But Teja was already upon them. His fearful battle-axe glittered above,
between them. Pierced through his armour deep into the left shoulder,
Alboin fell, and immediately afterwards Gisulf lay on the ground with
his helmet shattered. Then there was no more stopping the rest:
Longobardians, Gepidians, Alamannians, Herulians, Isaurians and
Illyrians, scattered in headlong flight, rushed down the mountain.
With shouts of exultation, Teja's companions followed. Teja himself
kept to the pass. He called to Wachis for spear after spear, and aiming
high over the Gothic pursuers, hurled them at the flying enemy, killing
whomsoever he touched.
They were the Emperor's best troops. In their flight they carried away
with them the Macedonians, Thracians, Persians, Armenians, and Franks,
who were slowly climbing the ascent, and fled until they reached
Narses, who had anxiously raised himself upright in his litter.
"Johannes has fallen!"
"Alboin is severely wounded!" they cried as they ran past. "Fly! Back
into the camp!"
"A new column of attack must be--Ha! look!" said Narses, "there comes
Cethegus, at the very nick of time!"
And Cethegus it was. He had completed his long ride through all the
troops to which Narses had sent Romans and Italians; he had formed
these into five companies of three hundred men each, and when they were
drawn up in battle array, he took his place quietly at their head.
Anicius followed at a distance. Syphax, carrying two spears, kept close
behind his master. Letting the defeated fugitives pass through the
vacant spaces between their ranks, the Italians marched on. Most of
them were old legionaries of Rome and Ravenna, and faithfully attached
to Cethegus.
The Gothic pursuers hesitated as they met with these fresh,
well-ordered troops, and slowly receded to the pass. But Cethegus
followed. Past the bloody place, covered with corpses, where Teja had
first destroyed the league of the twelve; past the spot farther up,
where Johannes had fallen, he marched on with a quiet and steady step,
his shield and spear in his left hand, his sword in his right. Behind
him, with lances couched, came the legionaries.
They marched up the mountain in silence, without the word of command,
or the flourish of trumpets. The Gothic heroes would not retreat into
the pass behind their King. They halted before the entrance.
Guntharis was the first with whom Cethegus came into contact. The
Duke's spear was shattered on the shield of Cethegus, and at once
Cethegus thrust his spear into his adversary's body; the deadly shaft
broke in the wound.
Earl Grippa of Ravenna set to work to avenge the Woelfung; he swung his
long sword over his head; but Cethegus ran under the thrust, and struck
the old follower of Theodoric below the right shoulder with his broad
Roman sword. Grippa fell and died.
Wisand, the standard-bearer, advanced furiously against Cethegus; their
blades crossed; sparks flew from shield and helmet; but Cethegus
cleverly parried a too hasty stroke, and before the Goth could recover
himself, the broad blade of the Roman had entered his thigh. Wisand
tottered. Two of his cousins bore him out of the fight.
His brother, Ragnaris of Tarentum, now attacked Cethegus, but Syphax,
running up, caught the well-thrust spear in his hand, and before
Ragnaris could let fall the shaft, and draw his axe from his belt,
Cethegus stabbed him in the forehead.
Struck with horror, the Goths retreated before the terrible Roman, and
pressed past their King into the ravine. Aligern alone, Teja's cousin,
would not yield. He hurled his spear with such force at the shield of
Cethegus, that it pierced it; but Cethegus lowered it quickly, and
received Aligern, as he rushed forward, on the point of his sword.
Severely wounded, Aligern fell into old Hildebrand's arms, who, letting
fall his heavy stone axe, tried to carry the fainting man into the
ravine.
But Aligern's spear had also been well-aimed. The shield-arm of
Cethegus bled profusely. But he did not heed it; he pressed on to make
an end of both the Goths, Hildebrand and Aligern, and at that moment
Adalgoth caught sight of his father's hated enemy.
"Alaric! Alaric!" he shouted, and, springing forward, he caught up the
heavy stone axe from the ground. "Alaric!" he cried.
Cethegus caught the name and looked up. The axe, accurately aimed, came
whizzing through the air upon his tall helmet. Stunned, Cethegus fell.
Syphax sprang to him, took him in both his arms, and carried him aside.
But the legionaries would not retreat; they could not. Behind them,
sent by Narses, two thousand Persians and Thracians pressed up the
ascent.
"Bring hurling spears!" commanded their leader, Aniabedes. "No
hand-to-hand fight! Cast spears at the King until he fall. By order of
Narses!"
The soldiers willingly obeyed this order, which promised to spare their
blood. Presently such a fearful hail of darts rattled against the
narrow opening of the pass, that not a Goth was able to issue forth and
stand before the King.
And now Teja, filling the entrance with his body and his shield,
defended his people for some time--for a very considerable time--quite
alone. Procopius, following the report of eye-witnesses, has described
with admiration this, the last fight of King Teja:
"I have now to describe a very remarkable fight, and the heroism of a
man who is inferior to none of those we call heroes--of Teja. He stood,
visible to all, covered by his shield, and brandishing his spear, in
front of his own ranks. All the bravest Romans, whose number was great,
attacked him alone; for with his death, they thought, the battle would
be at an end. All hurled and thrust their lances at him alone; but he
received the darts upon his shield, and, repeatedly sallying forth,
killed numbers of his adversaries, one after the other. And when his
shield was stuck so full of darts that it was too heavy for him to
hold, he signed to his shield-bearer to bring him a fresh one. Thus he
stood; not turning, nor throwing his shield on his back and retreating,
but firm as a rock, dealing death to his foes with his right hand,
warding it off with his left, and ever calling to his weapon-bearers
for new shields and new spears."
It was Wachis and Adalgoth--heaps of shields and spears had been
brought to the spot from the royal treasure--who continually handed to
Teja fresh weapons.
At last the courage of the Romans, Persians, and Thracians sank as they
saw all their efforts wrecked against this living shield of the Goths,
and all their bravest men slain by the spears of the King. They
wavered--the Italians called anxiously upon Cethegus--they turned and
fled. Then Cethegus started up from his long stupor.
"Syphax, a fresh spear! Halt! Stand, Romans! Roma, Roma eterna!" And
raising himself with an effort, he advanced against Teja.
The Romans recognised his voice. "Roma, Roma eterna!" they shouted, as
they ceased their flight and halted. But Teja had also recognised the
voice. His shield bristled with twelve lances--he could hold it no
longer; but when he recognised the adversary who was advancing, he
thought no more of changing it.
"No shield! My battle-axe! Quick!" he cried.
And Wachis handed to him his favourite weapon.
Then King Teja dropped his shield, and, swinging his axe, rushed out of
the pass at Cethegus.
"Die, Roman!" he cried.
Once again the two great enemies looked each other in the face. Then
spear and axe whizzed through the air. Neither thought of parrying the
stroke, and both fell. Teja's axe had pierced Cethegus's left breast
through shield and armour.
"Roma, Roma eterna!" once more cried Cethegus, and fell back dead.
His spear had struck the King's right breast. Not dead, but mortally
wounded, he was carried into the pass by Hildebrand and Adalgoth. And
they had need to make haste. For when, at last, they saw the King of
the Goths fall--he had fought without a pause for eight hours, and
evening was coming on--all the Italians, Persians, and Thracians, and
fresh columns of attack which had now come up, rushed towards the pass,
which was now again defended by Adalgoth with his shield; Hildebrand
and Wachis supporting him.
Syphax took the body of Cethegus in his arms and carried it to one
side. Weeping aloud he held the noble head of his master upon his
knees, the features of which appeared almost superhuman in the majesty
of death. Before him raged the battle. Just then the Moor remarked that
Anicius, followed by a troop of Byzantines--Scaevola and Albinus among
them--was approaching him, and pointing to the body of Cethegus with an
air of command.
"Halt!" cried Syphax, springing up as they drew near; "what do you
want?"
"The head of the Prefect, to take to the Emperor," answered Anicius;
"obey, slave!"
But Syphax uttered a yell--his spear rushed through the air, and
Anicius fell. And before the others, who at once busied themselves with
the dying man, could come near him, Syphax had taken his beloved burden
upon his back, and began to climb up a steep precipice of lava near the
pass, which Goths and Byzantines had, till then, held to be impassable.
More and more rapidly the slave advanced. His goal was a little column
of smoke which rose just at the other side of the cliff. For there
yawned one of the small crater chasms of Vesuvius. For one moment
Syphax stopped upon the edge of the black rocks; once again he raised
the corpse of Cethegus erect in his strong arms, as if to show the
noble form to the setting sun. And suddenly master and slave had
disappeared.
The fiery mountain had received the faithful Syphax and the dead
Cethegus, his greatness and his guilt, onto its glowing bosom. The hero
was snatched away from the small spite of his enemies.
Scaevola and Albinus, who had witnessed the occurrence, hastened to
Narses, and demanded that the corpse should be sought for on the sides
of the crater. But Narses said:
"I do not grudge the mighty hero his mighty grave. He has deserved it.
I fight with the living, and not with the dead."
But almost at the same moment, the tumultuous battle round the pass,
which Adalgoth, not unworthy of his royal master, heroically defended
against the attacks of the enemy, ceased. For while, standing behind
Adalgoth, Hildebrand and Wachis suddenly cried, "Look! look at the sea!
The dragon ships! The northern heroes! Harald! Harald!"--the solemn
tones of the tuba were heard from below, sounding the signal for a
cessation of hostilities--for a truce. Very gladly the fatigued and
harassed warriors lowered their weapons.
But King Teja, who lay upon his shield--Hildebrand had forbidden every
one to draw out the spear of Cethegus from the wound--"for his life
would flow out with his blood"--asked in a faint voice:
"What do I hear them cry? The northern heroes? The ships? Is Harald
there?"
"Yes, Harald! He comes to our rescue! He brings safety for the rest of
the nation! For us, and for the women and children!" cried Adalgoth
joyously, as he knelt at Teja's side. "So thy incomparable heroism, my
ever-beloved hero; thy superhuman and untiring efforts, were not in
vain! Basiliskos has just come, sent by Narses. Harald has destroyed
the Ionian fleet in the harbour of Brundusium; he threatens to land and
attack the already exhausted Byzantines; he demands to be allowed to
carry away all the remaining Goths, with weapons and goods, to
Thuleland and liberty! Narses has agreed; he will honour, he says, King
Teja's noble heroism, in the remnant of his people. May we accept? Oh,
may we accept, my King?"
"Yes," said Teja, as his eyes grew dim. "You may and shall. The rest of
my people free! The women, the children, delivered from a terrible
death! Oh, happy that I am! Yes, take all who live to Thuleland; and
take with you--two of the dead: King Theodoric--and----"
"And King Teja!" said Adalgoth: and kissed the dead man's mouth.
CHAPTER XV.
And so it happened, and this was the manner of it.
Immediately after Narses had left his tent, a fisherman was led before
him, who had just sailed round the promontory of Surrentum in a small
and swift vessel, and who announced that an immense fleet of the Goths
was in full sail for the coast. Narses laughed; for he knew that not a
Gothic sail was to be found on all the seas.
More narrowly questioned, the man was obliged to confess that he had
not seen the fleet himself; but merchants had told him of it, and had
related that a great naval combat had taken place, in which the Goths
had destroyed the Emperor's fleet, at Brundusium.
That was impossible, as Narses well knew. And when the fisherman
described the appearance of the pretended Gothic ships, according to
what his informers had told him, the commander-in-chief cried out:
"At last they are coming! Triremes and galleys! They are our ships
which are approaching, not Gothic vessels."
No one thought of the Viking's fleet, which had not been heard of for
four moons, and which, it was believed, had sailed to the north.
A few hours later, as the battle was raging round the pass, engrossing
the attention of all, the coastguards announced to Narses the fact of
the approach of a very large imperial fleet. The ship of the admiral,
the Sophia, had been distinctly recognised. But the number of sails was
far greater than had been expected. The ships which Narses had sent to
urge the coming of the fleet were also among them, sailing first. The
strong south-eastern breeze would shortly bring them within sight of
the camp.
And presently Narses himself could enjoy from the hill the magnificent
spectacle of the approach of the fleet, propelled not only by their
spreading sails, but also by their long oars.
Much relieved, he again turned his attention to the combat upon
Vesuvius--when, suddenly, messengers reached him from the camp,
affirming the first reports in an alarming manner, or rather, they
brought much worse news. They had hurried on in advance of an embassy
which reached the litter of Narses just as Cethegus was advancing for
the last time against Teja.
This embassy consisted of the admiral and captains of the Ionian fleet,
who came forward with their hands in chains, and guarded by four
Northmen, whose message they had been brought to interpret. They
briefly related that they had been attacked by the fleet of the Viking
one stormy night, and had lost almost all their ships; that not one
could escape to warn Narses, for the enemy had blockaded the harbour.
When Jarl Harald had heard of the threatened destruction of the Goths
upon Vesuvius, he had sworn to prevent or to share their evil fate. And
sending the captured Grecian ships in advance, prudently hiding behind
them his dragon-ships, he had hurried to the coast of Neapolis on the
wings of the east wind. "And thus," concluded the interpreters, "thus
says Harald the Viking: 'Either you will allow all yet living Goths,
with all their weapons and goods, to leave the Southland upon our ships
and return with us to their fatherland; in return for which we will
give up all our thousands of prisoners, and all our prize-ships, except
those we need for the transport of the Goths; or we will immediately
kill our prisoners, land, and attack you, your camp and army, in the
rear. Then see to it, how many of you, when attacked in front by the
Goths, in the rear by us, will remain alive! For we Northmen fight to
the last man! I have sworn it by Odin.'"
Without a moment's hesitation Narses agreed to the departure of the
Goths.
"I have only sworn to drive them out of the Empire," he said, "not out
of the world. It would bring me small renown if I overpowered and
slaughtered the poor remains of such a noble nation. I reverence the
heroism of this Teja; in forty years of warfare I have never seen his
like. And I have no desire to try how my harassed army, which has had a
day of the hardest fighting, and has lost almost all its leaders and
numbers of its bravest soldiers, would resist these northern giants,
who come with untired strength and unconquered courage."
And so Narses had immediately sent heralds to Harald and to the pass.
The battle ceased; the retreat of the Goths began.
In double ranks, reaching from the summit of the mountain down to the
sea, the army of heroes formed a lane. The Viking had landed four
hundred men, who received the Goths on the sea-shore. But before the
march began, Karses signed to Basiliskos and said:
"The Gothic war is over--the stag is killed--now away with the wolves
which hunted him to the death. How are the wounded leaders of the
Longobardians?"
"Before I answer," said Basiliskos respectfully, "accept this
laurel-wreath, which your army sends to you. It is laurel from
Vesuvius; from the pass above; there is heroes' blood upon the leaves."
The first impulse of Narses was to push the wreath aside; but after a
pause, he said:
"'Tis well; give it to me." But he laid it beside him in the litter.
"Autharis, Warnfrid, Grimoald, Aripert, Agilulf and Rotharis are dead,"
Basiliskos now reported. "Altogether the Longobardians have lost seven
thousand men; Alboin and Gisulf, severely wounded, lie motionless in
their tents."
"Good, very good! As soon as the Goths have embarked, let the
Longobardians be led away. They are dismissed my service. And say to
Alboin, as my parting words: 'After the death of Narses--_perhaps_; but
certainly not before.' I will remain here in my litter; support me with
the cushions--I cannot stand--but I must witness this wonderful
spectacle."
And in truth it was a grand and moving sight to behold the last of the
Goths, as they turned their backs upon Vesuvius and Italy, and embarked
in the high-prowed ships which were to bear them away to the safe and
sheltering north.
From the ravine, into which not a single enemy had succeeded in
penetrating, was heard at intervals the solemn tones of the Gothic
war-horns, accompanied by monotonous, grave, and touching strains from
the men, women, and children--the ancient death-song of the Gothic
nation.
Hildebrand and Adalgoth--the last chiefs, the hoary Past and the golden
Future--had arranged the order of march.
Foremost went, full-armed, five hundred men, led by Wisand, the
standard-bearer, who, in spite of his wounds, bravely opened the
procession, leaning on his spear. Then followed, stretched upon his
last shield, the spear of Cethegus still sticking in his breast,
without helmet, his noble and pallid face framed by his long black
locks--King Teja, covered with a purple mantle, and carried by four
warriors. Behind him came Adalgoth and Gotho, and Adalgoth, softly
striking his harp, sang in a low voice:
"Give place, ye peoples, to our march:
The doom of the Goths is sped!
No crown, no sceptre carry we,
We bear the noble dead.
"With shield to shield, and spear to spear,
We march to the Northland cool;
Until in grey and distant seas
We find the Island Thule.
"That is the Isle of the brave and true,
Where none dishonour fears;
There we will lay our bravest King
In his bed of oaken spears.
"From off our feet--give place! give place!--
We shake Rome's traitor dust;
We only bear our King away--
For the Gothic crown is lost!"
When the bier was carried past the litter, Narses called a halt, and
said in a low voice in the Latin language:
"Mine was the victory, but his the fame! There, take the laurel wreath!
Other generations may see greater things, but now. King Teja, I greet
you as the greatest hero of all ages!"
And he laid the laurel wreath upon the dead man's pallid brow. The
bearers again took up the bier, and slowly and solemnly, to the sad
sound of Adalgoth's silver harp, the death-song of the people, and the
long-drawn tones of the war-horns, the procession marched on towards
the sea, which now glowed magnificently in the evening red.
Close behind Teja's body was carried a lofty crimson throne. Upon it
rested the silent august form of Dietrich of Bern; upon the head the
crowned helm; on the left arm the tall shield; a spear leaning against
the right shoulder. On the left of the throne marched old Hildebrand,
his eyes fixed upon the face of his beloved master, which shone in the
magic light of the setting sun. He held aloft the banner with the
device of the lion, high above the head of the great Dead. The evening
breeze from the Ausonian Sea rustled in the folds of the immense flag,
which, in ghost-like speech, seemed to be taking leave of Italian soil.
As the corpse was carried past, Narses said:
"I know by the shudder which passes across me that this is the wise
King of Ravenna! First came a stronger, now a greater man. Let us do
this dead man homage."
And, with great exertion, he rose upright in his litter, and bent his
head reverently before the corpse.
Then followed the wounded, supported by or carried in the arms of their
followers. This part of the procession was opened by Aligern, who was
carried on a broad shield by Wachis and Liuta, assisted by two
warriors. Then came the chests and coffers, the baskets and vessels,
containing the royal treasure and the goods of the different families,
which, until then, had been hidden in the wagons.
Afterwards came the great mass of the unarmed people--women, girls,
children, and old people--for the boys, from ten years of age upwards,
would not part with the weapons which had been entrusted to them, and
marched in a separate corps.
Narses smiled as the little fair-haired heroes passed, looking up at
him with anger and defiance.
"Well," he said, "the Goths have taken care that the Emperor's
successors and their generals shall not want work!"
The procession was closed by the rest of the Gothic army.
Innumerable boats lent their assistance in the embarkation of the
people and their scanty possessions. Presently all were on board the
high-decked vessels of the Northmen.
The corpses of Teja and Theodoric, the royal banner, and the royal
treasure, were taken into Harald's ship. The great Dietrich of Bern
was placed upon his throne at the foot of the mainmast, and his
lion-standard hoisted to the mast-head. Old Hildebrand installed
himself at the foot of the throne.
In the stern of the ship, Adalgoth and Wisand had laid down the body of
Teja. The mighty Harald and his beautiful sister approached it
sorrowfully. The Viking laid his mailed hand gently upon the dead man's
breast, and said:
"I could not save thee, bold and daring King! I could not save thee and
thy people. Nothing remains but to take thee and the rest of thy folk
to the land of the strong and the true, from which you should never
have departed. Thus, after all, I bring back to King Frode the Gothic
nation."
But Haralda said:
"I will preserve the body of the noble dead by secret arts, so that it
shall endure until we land in our home. There we will vault for him and
King Thidrekr a hill-grave near the sea, so that they may together hear
the roar of the breakers and hold converse with each other; for they
were worthy of each other. Look, my brother! the enemy's army stands in
ranks upon the strand; they lower their flags and weapons in reverence,
and the sun sinks glowing behind Misenum and yonder islands; a crimson
glow covers the sea as with a royal mantle; our white sails are
coloured red, and red gold shines upon our weapons! Look how the south
wind spreads out the banner of King Thidrekr! The wind, which obeys the
will of the gods, points to the north! Up, brother Harald! weigh
anchor! direct the rudder! turn the dragon's prow! Up, Freya's wise
bird! Fly, my falcon!"--and she tossed her falcon into the air--"point
out the way! to the north! to Thuleland! Home! home we take the last of
the Goths!"
FOOTNOTE:
[Footnote 1: Theodoric.]
THE END.
BILLING AND SONS, PRINTERS, GUILDFORD, SURREY.
_H. L. & Co._