At mid-day, when the Alemannian horsemen had first become visible, Leo
the Tribune was lying in his richly-furnished chamber in the high tower
of the Capitol, on a soft couch over which was spread a lion's skin. He
felt in his best mood.
His knee pained and hindered him no longer.
He comfortably stroked the rich black beard which encircled a
face--bronze-brown, small, originally nobly formed, but long since
become terrible by passions.
Before him, on a table of citron-wood, there stood, half-emptied, a
large jug of fiery Siculer wine, and a silver drinking-cup.
Two Greek slaves, father and son, were in attendance on him.
The elder slave, raising his finger in warning, brought the mixing-cup.
But, laughing, his master put it aside. "North of the Alps," said he,
"nature herself mixes too much coldness in our blood; we do not need to
dilute the wine. Is it not so, my demure Antinoues? There, drink!" And
he offered the cup to a third servant, a handsome boy of some fifteen
years, who was crouching on the ground in the extreme corner of the
room, as far as possible from Leo, and turning his back to his master.
He wore only a purple petticoat round his loins. His other garments the
Tribune had stripped off, that he might gaze on his splendid limbs.
Without turning his beautiful, sad face, the prisoner shook his head,
round which flowed long golden hair.
Defiantly, threateningly, he then spoke: "My name is not Antinoues; my
name is Hortari. Set me free! let me go back to my own people in the
rustling forests of the Danube! or else kill me! For know this,
shameful man, never will I comply with thy orders."
Leo angrily threw at him the heavy fortress-key, which lay on an
ottoman near. "Depart hence, stubborn dog! Davus!" cried he to the
younger slave, who was engaged in putting ready the armour of the
Tribune, "drag him to the stable, and hang him there in chains! If the
brat will not be his master's plaything, away with him to the beasts!"
The boy sprang up and threw his woollen mantle around him.
Davus dragged him away. The look, full of deadly hate, which the young
German threw back, quickly turning as he passed out of the room, Leo
did not observe. He soon recovered his good-humour.
"To-morrow I shall have better company here in the Thalamos," said he,
again stroking his dark beard, "than an untamable young bear.
Felicitas! I drink to our first embrace!" And he emptied the cup.
Then he stood up. "I need a support no longer!" He thereupon motioned
away the elder slave, stepped to the window of the tower, and looked
out.
"There is not a hundred of them, these daring barbarians! What
insolence! Only a few wear defensive armour; and their weapons of
attack are pitiable. How many of their arrows, spears, battle-axes have
already splintered harmlessly on my helmet and armour! They are coming
straight towards me. I long for battle and victory! There is life down
there in the streets of the town. Severus is gathering his cobblers and
tinkers. But they will not get the better of the impetuous enemy. When
the old man, who is playing the general, is in the greatest distress--I
will let him struggle a good while as a punishment--then will I ride
out with my cavalry like the storm of the desert, and sweep them before
me. But first to the priest. No one in the town is now thinking of
anything but the barbarians outside the gates. So I can accomplish it
unnoticed. The danger from that priest must be very threatening, when
the cowardly gold-sack himself counsels bloody means. He has ever
menaced me, the psalm-whiner. First security and revenge, then the
pleasure of victory, and for a reward--Felicitas. Let Pluto be
saddled," commanded he the old slave, "and help me to arm."
The old man took the order to the court below, and then returned to the
tower. Leo had already put on the tall helmet with its flowing plume,
and the splendid greaves, and the slave now helped his master to clasp
and buckle over the dark-red tunic the magnificent breast-armour, which
was adorned with many orders and distinctions. When Leo had girded on
the sword, and was going to take the bronze shield, with the long,
sharp spike in the centre, the old man took carefully from a small
ivory box, which stood in the corner near the couch, a narrow leather
strap with two diminutive appendages, and with an entreating, silent,
impressively eloquent look, offered the charm to his master. It was a
small, ugly idol in amber, and a tiny silver case.
"Take it, my lord!" entreated the Greek, as Leo contemptuously pushed
it away.
"What shall I do with that? What sort of"----
"Do not revile them," implored the old man; "or they will be malicious
and protect no longer. Dost thou not know them, the guarding jewels?
The one is the Egyptian god, Phtha, and the capsule encloses a hair of
the beard of the Apostle Paul. If the first does not help, the second
will. Wear to-day both. I had last night a bad dream."
"_Thou_ wear them, then!"
"The dream did not concern me, but thee, my lord. I saw thee
celebrating a marriage!"
"Oh, that thou seest often! This time with Felicitas?"
"No, with Persephone, the queen of shades."
"She is no doubt very beautiful," laughed the Tribune, spreading out
his powerful arms; "let her only approach, she is welcome!"
"May the omen be far distant!" cried the slave.
"Thou art very anxious about me! Does my life concern thee? Why? Say,
for what reason?"
"Oh, sir, thou wast never so angry with Chrysos as"----
"With all the others, wilt thou say?" laughed the Moor. "Only
self-interest, old man; I need thee; that is, thy healing knowledge and
fingers."
"If thou wouldst only pray! And some one creature on the earth,
love--some one name honour! It would be better for thee!"
But the soldier gave a shrill laugh: "Love? Do I not every month love
another woman?"
"Thou destroyest what thou lovest!"
"And pray? To which god shall I pray? With the same fervour and with
the same results, have I seen prayer offered to Astarte and Artemis, to
Osiris and Jupiter, to Christ and Jehovah. But honour? What can be
sacred to me? Hardly so old as that German youth, I was stolen by
Vandal horsemen. Then lost I home, parents for ever! Sold as a
slave to the Romans, I suffered and enjoyed, even as a boy, things
unspeakable--pampered, kissed, fed, whipped. I slew my last master,
escaped into the forests of Calabria, became robber, robber-chief; was
taken, condemned to the sports in the circus, pardoned by the Emperor
when even my blood reddened the arena, placed among the mercenaries,
soon by wild courage centurion and Tribune. To which god shall I pray?
They all forsook me when I believed in them. But since I scorn them
all, Fortune serves me like a beloved maid. And what shall I love and
honour? My palm-rustling home? That is occupied by Vandalic barbarians!
Rome? Rome at first ill-treated me like a captive beast of prey, and
now hunts me like a tamed lion against her enemies. Very well; the
nature as well as the name of this my terrible countryman have I
chosen;" and he patted the proudly-maned head of the desert-king on his
couch. "Booty, enjoyment, battle! Wine, war, women! And at last--no
awakening--eternal night in the silent waste of death!" With that he
seized both amulets, threw them from the tower window, grasped his
spear, which was resting against the wall, and went clanging down the
steep tower staircase.
The Greek followed sadly.
Having reached the wide court-yard, the Tribune commanded his troops to
mount; he ordered the squadron to follow him into the town, and station
themselves in the Forum of Hercules, there to wait till, he should lead
them to the attack. The centurion Himilco, in command of the Isaurian
foot-soldiers, was placed at the look-out post at the entrance of the
Capitol, to watch the progress of the battle and any possible events in
the town; and if his presence was required in the town or outside the
walls, he must first close the strong gate of the citadel, and leave
two guards there. The Tribune quietly ordered his two slaves, the old
Greek and his son, to the foot of the Capitol with a closed litter:
"under any circumstances," added he. "To drag on horseback a struggling
woman up the steep path--that might oblige me seriously to hurt her--as
in Galla's case," said he to himself. And now, having given all his
commands, he placed his foot in the stirrup, to swing himself on Pluto,
his magnificent black Spanish steed, which had, with the front hoof,
been impatiently striking sparks from the granite pavement. He was
hardly in the saddle when, through the open stable-door, his eye fell
on the boy Hortari, who, with outstretched arms, was chained to the
wall between two iron horse-racks. In a corner of the stable lay a
round blue German shield, a spear, and a battle-axe, the weapons that
had been taken from the boy at his seizure.
"Ha! the future Antinoues!" laughed he, fixing his spear at his side.
"Unchain him! He shall go on the walls, and see the destruction of his
German heroes. At night we will chain him with a whole pack of such
bears."
And he gave his steed the spurs, so that he started loudly neighing.
"Beware of the bears of the forest," cried Hortari, now unchained, and
stepping to the door of the stable with flashing eyes; "their claws
will tear you in pieces."
But the Tribune, with a laugh, shouted: "Up! to the gate! and woe to
the barbarians!"
And, following their powerful leader, the glittering cavalcade galloped
off, rushing and clashing down the valley.