"Cursed omen!" growled Calpurnius.
And he hastened to join Belisarius.
"Command the retreat, quick, magister militum!"
"Why, excellent Calpurnius?"
"It is the King of the Goths himself!"
"And I am Belisarius himself," answered the latter, as he donned his
splendid helmet with its crest of white horse-hair. "How dare you leave
your post in the vanguard?"
"I wished to bring you the news, general."
"Could no other messenger do that? Listen, Roman, you are unworthy of
being liberated. You tremble, you coward heart! Return at once to the
front. You will lead our horsemen to the first attack. You, Antallas
and Kuturgur, take him between you. He _must_ be brave; do you hear? If
he shrink--down with him. Thus Romans must be taught courage! The
watchman has just announced the last hour of night. In another hour the
sun will rise. Its first beams must find the whole army on yonder
hills. Up! Ambuzach, Bessas, Constantinus, Demetrius, advance to meet
the enemy!"
"General, it is as they say," announced Maxentius, the most faithful of
the lifeguards; "innumerable Goths are advancing."
"There are two armies against us," reported Salomo, the leader of the
hypaspistes of Belisarius.
"I reckon Belisarius alone to be a whole army."
"And the plan of attack?" asked Bessas.
"That I will decide upon when in sight of the enemy, while Calpurnius
arrests their progress with his horsemen. Forward! Give the signal.
Bring Phalion out!"
He left the tent. His generals, hypaspistes, pretorians, captains and
lifeguards dispersed in all directions, in order to muster their men.
In a quarter of an hour the whole army was in motion towards the hills.
No time was lost in breaking up the camp, and the sudden movement
caused endless confusion.
Foot and horse got mingled together in the dark and moonless night. And
rumours of the superiority of the advancing barbarians had also spread
discouragement among the soldiers.
Two rather narrow roads alone led to the hills, which circumstance
caused much hindrance, and blocking of the way.
Far later than the hour appointed by Belisarius, the army arrived in
sight of the hills; and when the first beams of the sun shone upon
them, Calpurnius, the leader of the vanguard, saw Gothic weapons
glittering upon all the heights. The barbarians had been beforehand
with Belisarius.
Alarmed, Calpurnius halted, and sent word to the commander-in-chief.
Belisarius plainly saw that Calpurnius and his horsemen could not storm
the hills. He therefore gave orders that Ambazuch and Bessas, with the
best of the Armenian foot-soldiers, should advance upon the broader
road. The right and left wings of the army were led by Constantinus and
Demetrius; he himself led up his body-guard as a reserve for the
centre.
Calpurnius, rejoiced at the change of plan, placed his horsemen below
the steepest part of a hill, where he thought himself safe from an
attack, and waited for the result of the movements of Ambazuch and
Bessas, in order to pursue the flying Goths or support the retreating
Armenians according to circumstances.
On the summit of the heights the Goths placed themselves in an extended
line of battle.
Totila's horsemen had arrived the first; he was soon joined by Teja,
mounted and feverish with thirst for battle. The axe-bearing foot were
far behind, for Teja had begged permission to join in the hand-to-hand
fight when and where he pleased.
Hildebrand followed later; and lastly the King with the main army.
Duke Guntharis, with his own and Teja's men, was expected to arrive
shortly.
Swift as an arrow Teja flew back to the King.
"King," he cried, "beneath yonder hill stands Belisarius. By the God of
Revenge, he is lost! He has been mad enough to advance. Do not suffer
him to be beforehand with us in the attack."
"Forward!" cried King Witichis; "the Goths to the front!"
In a moment he had reached the edge of the hill and overlooked the
valley at his feet.
"Hildebad--the left wing! Thou, Totila, wilt charge in the centre with
thy horsemen down that road. I shall keep the right, ready to follow or
cover thee."
"That will be needless," said Totila, drawing his sword. "I warrant
that they will not be able to withstand my charge down that hill."
"We shall drive the enemy back to the camp, take it, and force them
into that shining brook just behind. Those who still remain, Totila and
Teja, you will drive over the plain to Rome."
"Yes, when we have won the pass in those wood-crowned hills just beyond
the river," said Teja, pointing with his sword as he spoke.
"It appears to be unoccupied; you must reach it before the fugitives,"
said Witichis.
Just then the standard-bearer. Earl Wisand of Vulsinii, rode up to the
King.
"King, thou hast promised to grant me a request."
"Yes, because at Solona, thou overthrewest the magister militum for
Illyrium, Mundus, and his son."
"I have a grudge against all magistri militum. I should like to try the
same spear on Belisarius. Relieve me of my banner to-day, and allow me
to seek the magister militum. He has a celebrated charger, Phalion or
Balion, and my horse is getting stiff. And thou knowest the ancient
right of a Gothic horseman. 'Throw the rider and take his horse.'"
"A good old Gothic right," cried old Hildebrand.
"I cannot refuse thy request," said Witichis, taking the flag from the
hand of Wisand, who at once galloped away.
"Guntharis is not here. Totila, thou shalt bear the banner to-day."
"King," said Totila, "I cannot carry it if I am to show my horsemen the
way to the enemy."
Witichis signed to Teja.
"Forgive me," said Teja, "to-day I need both hands."
"Well then, Hildebad!"
"Many thanks for the honour; but I do not intend to do worse than the
others."
"What?" cried Witichis, almost angry; "must I be my own
standard-bearer? Will none of my friends honour my trust?"
"Give me the flag of Theodoric," said old Hildebrand, grasping the
mighty shaft. "It pleases me that the youths so thirst for fame. Give
me the banner, I will defend it to-day as I did forty summers ago."
And from that moment he rode at the King's right hand.
"The enemy's foot are advancing up the hill," said Witichis, raising
himself in the saddle.
"They are Huns and Armenians," said Teja, looking forward with his
eagle-eyes, "I recognise their long shields!" And spurring his horse,
he cried: "And Ambazuch, the perjured murderer of Petra, leads them."
"Forward, Totila!" cried the King; "and of _these_ troops--make no
prisoners!"
Totila rapidly galloped off to his horsemen, who were placed at the top
of the steep road which led down the hill. He carefully examined the
armour of the Armenians, who were slowly advancing up the ascent in
close columns. They carried very long and heavy shields, and short
spears for thrusting and throwing.
"They must not have time to hurl their spears," cried Totila.
He then ordered his horsemen, at the moment of encountering the enemy,
to change their lances from their right hand to their left, letting
their bridles hang loosely from the wrist, and passing their lances
across the manes of their horses into the bridle hand. In this way they
would hit the enemy on their unprotected side.
"As soon as the encounter has taken place--they will not be able to
withstand it--throw your lances back into the arm-strap, draw your
swords, and kill whoever still stands."
He now placed his men in the shape of a wedge on the road and on each
side of it, outflanking the enemy's column. He himself led the thin
edge of the wedge. He determined to allow the enemy to ascend halfway
up the hill.
Both parties looked forward to the shock in breathless expectation.
Ambazuch, an experienced warrior, quietly marched forward.
"Let them come on," he said to his people, "until you feel their
horses' breath upon your faces. Then, and not before, hurl your lances.
Aim low, at the breasts of the horses, and immediately after draw your
swords. In this way I have always succeeded in overthrowing horsemen."
But it turned out otherwise.
For when Totila gave the order to charge, it seemed as if a thundering
avalanche were descending the hill upon the terrified enemy. The
shining, clattering, snorting, threatening mass rushed on like a
hurricane, and before the first row of the Armenians had found time
even to raise their spears, they lay upon the ground, pierced through
by the long lances. They had been swept away as if they had never stood
there.
All this had taken place in a moment of time; and when Ambazuch was
about to order his second line, in which he himself stood, to kneel and
shorten their spears, he found it already ridden over; the third rank
dispersed; and the fourth, under Bessas, able to offer but a faint
resistance to the terrible horsemen, who now began to draw their
swords.
He tried to rally his men; he flew back and called to his wavering
lines to stand and fight; but just then Totila's sword reached him; a
mighty stroke crushed in his helmet.
He fell on his knees, and held the hilt of his sword towards the Goth.
"Take a ransom!" he cried. "I am yours!"
Totila was about to stretch forth his hand to take the sword, when Teja
cried:
"Remember Petra!"
A weapon flashed, and Ambazuch sank dead on the ground.
At this the last lines of the Armenians, carrying Bessas away with
them, fled in terror. Belisarius's vanguard was annihilated.
With loud cries of joy King Witichis and his followers had witnessed
Totila's victory.
"Look! now the Hunnish horsemen, who stand just below us, advance
against Totila," said the King to the old standard-bearer. "Totila
turns to meet them. They are much more numerous. Up, Hildebad! Hasten
down the road to his aid."
"Ha!" cried old Hildebrand, bending forward in his saddle, and looking
over the edge of the rocks, "who is that tribune between the two
body-guards of Belisarius?"
Witichis bent forward also.
"Calpurnius!" he exclaimed with a sharp cry.
And suddenly, seeking no path, just from where he stood, the King
galloped down the hill towards his deadly enemy. The fear that
Calpurnius might escape him overpowered every other thought.
As if on wings, as if the God of Revenge were guiding him over bush and
crevice and ditch and pointed rock, the King galloped madly on.
For an instant the old master-at-arms was horrified; such a ride he had
never beheld. But the next moment he waved his blue flag and cried:
"Forward! follow your King!"
And, the horsemen first, the foot after, the centre oL the Gothic army,
leaping, jumping, and sliding down upon their shields, suddenly
descended the steep side of the hill upon the Hunnish cavalry.
Calpurnius had looked up. It had seemed to him as if he heard his name,
and the cry sounded like the last trump of judgment.
He turned, and would have fled.
But the grim soldiers on his right and left caught his bridle.
"Halt, tribune!" said Antallas, pointing to Totila's horsemen--"_there_
is the enemy!"
A cry of pain to the left caused him and Calpurnius to turn. The Hun
Kuturgur, the second of the body-guards, sank with a crash from his
saddle, felled by the sword-stroke of a Goth who appeared to have
dropped from the sky. And behind this Goth, the rocky steep, which yet
seemed inaccessible, was filled with climbing and leaping men, and the
Huns were suddenly taken in the flank by this enemy from above, while
at the same time they were attacked in front by Totila.
Calpurnius recognised the Goth.
"Witichis!" he cried in terror, and his arm fell powerless at his side.
But his horse saved him. Wounded and startled by the fall of Kuturgur,
it galloped wildly away. Antallas threw himself furiously upon the King
of the Goths, who was far in advance of his men.
"Down, madman!" he cried.
But the next moment he was slain by Witichis, who irresistibly,
trampled down all those who stood in his path.
Through the crowd of Hunnish cavalry, who, terrified at his look,
yielded to right and left, Witichis pursued Calpurnius.
The latter had recovered the mastery of his horse, and now sought
protection in the thickest press of his soldiers.
In vain.
Witichis did not lose sight of him for a moment, but followed him
closely.
However he might hide himself among his men, however rapidly he rode,
Calpurnius could not escape the King, who beat down all who stood
between him and the murderer of his son.
Group after group, knot after knot, dissolved before the terrible sword
of the revengeful father. The lines of the Huns were broken through by
the fugitive and his pursuer. They were not able to close again, for,
even before Totila could come up, the old standard-bearer, with horse
and foot, had broken their right flank, dividing it into two parts.
When Totila galloped up, he found only flying foes. The portion to the
right was soon taken between Totila and Hildebrand, and destroyed. The
greater part on the left fled back to Belisarius.
Meantime Calpurnius galloped over the field as if pursued by the
Furies.
He had a good start, for Witichis had been seven times obliged to hew
his way through the enemy.
But Boreas galloped bravely on, and carried Witichis ever nearer to his
victim.
The fugitive heard the call to stand and fight. He only spurred his
horse the faster.
All at once it fell beneath him, and before he could rise, Witichis
stood over him.
Springing from his saddle, Witichis now silently pushed the sword of
the fallen man, which had dropped from the latter's hand, towards him.
Then Calpurnius took courage--the courage of despair.
He rose to his feet, took up his sword, and sprang at the Goth with a
leap like that of a tiger.
But in the middle of his leap he fell prone to the ground; the sword of
Witichis had split his forehead open.
The King set his foot upon the breast of the corpse, and looked into
the distorted face. He sighed deeply.
"Revenge is sweet, but it will not bring back my child!"
With deep ire Belisarius had witnessed this unhappy commencement of the
battle. But his confidence and composure did not abandon him, even when
he saw the Armenians swept away, and the horsemen of Calpurnius
overthrown and scattered.
He was now convinced of the strength and superiority of the enemy. But
he determined to advance upon his whole line, leaving a gap in which to
receive his fugitive horsemen.
But this the Goths were quick to perceive; and, Witichis foremost, they
followed Totila and Hildebrand--who had annihilated the surrounded
Huns--and pressed forward so furiously that they threatened to reach
and break through the lines of Belisarius at the same moment with the
fugitives.
This could not be permitted.
Belisarius himself filled the gap with his bodyguard on foot, and
shouted to the fugitive horsemen to halt and turn.
But it seemed as if the terror which had possessed their cowardly and
fallen leader had entered their hearts. They dreaded the sword of the
Gothic King behind them even more than their thundering chief before
them, and without pause or stay they rushed on at a gallop, as if they
intended to ride down their own comrades.
For one moment a fearful shock--a thousand-voiced cry of fear and
rage--a confused turmoil of mingled horse and foot--among them
slaughtering Goths--and suddenly a dispersal to all sides, amid shrill
cries of victory from the enemy.
The body-guard of Belisarius was ridden down; his main line of battle
broken.
He ordered the retreat to the camp.
But it was no longer a retreat, it was a rout. The footmen of Hildebad,
Guntharis, and Teja had now arrived upon the field of battle. The
Byzantines saw their order of attack broken, they despaired of further
resistance and fled in great confusion to the camp.
Notwithstanding, they would still have been able to reach it a long
time before their pursuers, had not an unforeseen occurrence stopped
the way.
Belisarius had set forth with such certainty of victory, that he had
ordered all the carriages and baggage of the army, and even the herds
of cattle--which, according to the custom of the time, were driven
after--to follow the troops upon the high-roads.
The retreating masses now encountered this slowly advancing body,
difficult to move and difficult to disperse, and indescribable
confusion ensued.
Soldiers and drivers came to blows; the order of march was broken
against the wagons, carriages, and chests. The lust of booty was
awakened, and many of the soldiers began to plunder the wagons, before
they should fall into the hands of the enemy.
On all sides arose altercations, curses, laments, and throats,
accompanied by the crash of broken wagons, and the bleating and
bellowing of the terrified herds.
"Sacrifice the baggage! Fire the wagons! Gallop through the herds!"
cried Belisarius, who, sword in hand, now broke a path through the
turmoil with the remnant of his body-guard.
But it was all in vain.
Ever thicker, ever more entangled became the coil; it seemed impossible
to unravel it.
Despair at length tore it asunder.
The cry, "The barbarians are upon us!" sounded from the rear.
And it was no idle rumour.
Hildebad, with his foot-soldiers, had descended to the plain, and his
foremost ranks now attacked the defenceless mass. There ensued a
fearful press to the front; cries of terror--of rage from the
body-guard, who, mindful of their former valour, attempted to fight,
but could not--of anguish from those trampled and crushed; and suddenly
the greater part of the wagons, with their teams and the thousands who
were crowded upon them or jammed between them, fell with a thundering
crash into the ditches on the right and left of the high-road.
So at last the way was open--and impetuously, all discipline at an end,
the stream of fugitives rushed on to the camp.
With loud cries of victory the Gothic foot-soldiers followed, slaying
their easy prey with arrows, slings, and spears; while Belisarius, in
the rear, resisted with difficulty the unceasing attacks of Totila and
the King.
"Help, Belisarius!" cried Aigan, the leader of the Massagetian
mercenaries, as he rode up from among the scattered groups, wiping the
blood from his face. "My countrymen swear they see the devil amidst the
enemy. They will not stand. Help me! Usually they fear you much more
than the devil!"
Grinding his teeth, Belisarius looked across at his right wing, which
was flying in disorder over the fallows, pursued by the Goths.
"O Justinian, my imperial master," he exclaimed, "how badly I keep my
word!"
And, entrusting the further defence of the retreat to the camp to
Demetrius--for the uneven ground upon which they had now entered
embarrassed the pursuit of the enemy's horse---he galloped across
country with Aigan and his mounted guard to join the mercenaries.
"Halt!" he thundered; "halt, you cowardly dogs! Who flies, when
Belisarius stands? I am with you; turn and win!" And he raised his
visor, and showed them his majestic countenance.
And such was the power of his personality, so great the belief in his
invincibility, that all who recognised the tall form of the commander
on his roan, hesitated, halted, and with a cry of encouragement, turned
once more to face the pursuing Goths.
Here, at least, the flight was at an end.
Up came a tremendous Goth, easily forcing his way.
"Ha, ha! I am glad you are tired of running, you swift-footed Greeks! I
could no longer pant after you! Your legs are superior to ours; let us
see if your arms be so too. Ha! why do you fall back, my lads? Because
of him on the roan? What of him?"
"Sir, that must be a King among the southerners; one can hardly bear
the glance of his angry eye."
"That would indeed be curious. Ah! that must be Belisarius! I am glad
to meet thee, thou bold hero!" he cried across to Belisarius.
"Dismount, and let us measure the strength of our arms. Look, I too am
on foot. Thou wilt not?" he cried angrily. "Must I fetch thee down from
thy hack?"
And he swung his immense spear in his right hand.
"Turn, sir, avoid him!" cried Aigan: "that giant hurls small masts!"
"Turn, general," repeated the hypaspistes anxiously.
But Belisarius, raising his short sword, rode quietly a horse's length
nearer to the Goth. Whizzing came the mighty spear, straight at his
breast.
But just before it touched, a swift stroke of his short Roman sword,
and the spear fell harmless on one side.
"Hail to Belisarius, hail!" cried the Byzantines, and they pressed
forward anew.
"A famous stroke!" laughed Hildebad angrily. "Let us see if thy fence
can parry _this_!"
And, bending forward, he lifted from the ploughed field an old jagged
boundary-stone, swung it in both hands backward and forward, lifted it
above his head, and hurled it with all his might at the advancing hero.
A cry from the Byzantines--Belisarius fell backwards from his horse.
All was over.
"Belisarius down! Woe, woe! All is lost!" cried the Byzantines, as the
tall form disappeared, and fled madly towards the camp.
A few ran on without pause until they reached the gates of Rome.
It was in vain that the lance and spear-bearers threw themselves
desperately against the Goths; they could only save their chief, but
not the battle.
The first sword-stroke of Hildebad, who now rushed up to Belisarius,
was received on the faithful breast of Maxentius. But also a Gothic
horseman, who was the next to reach the place, and who had killed seven
men before he could make his way to the magister militum, fell from his
horse. His followers found him pierced by thirteen wounds. But he was
still alive, and he was one of the few who fought through and outlived
the whole war--Wisand, the bandelarius.
Belisarius, who, lifted on to his horse by Aigan and Valentinus, his
groom, had quickly recovered his senses, raised his general's staff in
vain, and cried to the fugitives to stand. They could not and would not
hear. In vain he struck at them right and left; he was irresistibly
carried away by the press to the very camp.
There, behind the solid gates, he at last succeeded in arresting the
pursuit of the Goths.
"All honour is lost," he said indignantly; "let us at least save our
lives."
With these words he closed the gates, without any regard to the large
masses of people still outside.
An attempt of Hildebad to enter the camp without more ado was
frustrated by the strong oaken palisades, which defied the spears and
stones hurled at them.
Leaning on his sword, Hildebad cooled himself for a moment. Just then
Teja, who, like the King and Totila, had long since dismounted, turned
the corner of the wall, which he had been examining and measuring.
"This confounded wooden fortress!" cried Hildebad, as Teja came up.
"Neither stone nor iron can do any good here."
"No," said Teja; "but fire can!"
He stirred with his foot a heap of ashes which lay near.
"These are from last night's watch-fires. Here are still some sparks,
and brushwood lies near. Come, my men, put up your swords and kindle
the brushwood. Set the camp on fire!"
"Splendid fellow!" cried Hildebad rejoicingly. "Quick, lads! burn them
out as you would a fox in his hole! The brisk north wind will help us!"
The dying watch-fires were speedily fanned into flame; hundreds of
fire-brands flew into the dry planks of the palisading.
Very soon bright flames rose to the sky.
The thick smoke, driven into the camp by the wind, blinded the
Byzantines, and rendered the defence of the walls impossible. They
retreated to the centre of the camp.
"Oh that I were dead!" sighed Belisarius. "Evacuate the camp! Out by
the Porta Decumana! Retreat in good order to the bridges behind us!"
But the command to leave the camp broke the last ties of discipline and
order.
While the charred beams of the gate fell under the thundering strokes
of Teja's axe, and the Black Earl was the first to spring into the camp
through the flames and smoke, the fugitives tore open all the gates
which led to Rome, and hastened in confused masses to the river.
The first comers reached the two bridges unhindered and unfollowed.
They had some time to spare before Hildebad and Teja could compel
Belisarius to leave the burning camp.
But suddenly--oh, horror!--the Gothic horns sounded close at hand.
Witichis and Totila, as soon as they knew that the camp was taken, had
mounted at once, and now led their horsemen from the right and left, to
attack the fugitives in the flank.
Belisarius had just galloped out of the camp by the Decumanian Gate,
and was hurrying to one of the bridges, when he saw the threatening
troops of horsemen rushing up on both sides.
The great general still preserved his composure.
"Forwards at a gallop to the bridges!" he commanded his Saracens;
"defend them!"
It was too late. A dull crash; then a second--the two narrow
bridges had broken beneath the weight of the crowding fugitives,
and by hundreds the Hunnish horsemen and the Illyrian
lance-bearers--Justinian's pride--fell into the marshy waters.
Without reflecting, Belisarius, who had just reached the steep bank,
spurred his horse into the foaming blood-flecked river, and swam to the
other side.
"Salomo," he said to one of his pretorians, as soon as he had landed,
"take a handful of my guards and gallop as hard as you can to the pass.
Ride over the fugitives; you must reach it before the Goths! Do you
hear? You _must_! It is our last plank of salvation!"
Salomo and Dagisthaeos obeyed, and galloped away as swift as the wind.
Belisarius collected together all whom he could reach. The Goths, as
well as the Byzantines, were detained for a time by the river.
But suddenly Aigan cried:
"Salomo is returning!"
"General," cried Salomo, as he galloped up, "all is lost! Weapons
glitter in the pass! It is already occupied by the Goths!"
For the first time on this unhappy day Belisarius started.
"The pass lost? Then not a man of my Emperor's army will escape. Then
farewell fame, Antonina, and life! Come, Aigan, draw your sword; let me
not fall living into the hands of the barbarians."
"General," said Aigan, "I have never heard you speak thus!"
"I have never before felt thus. Let us dismount and die!"
He was taking his left foot out of the stirrup, in order to spring from
his horse, when Dagisthaeos galloped up.
"Be comforted, my general! The pass is ours--it is Roman weapons that
we saw there. It is Cethegus, the Prefect; he occupied the pass in
secret!"
"Cethegus?" cried Belisarius. "Is it possible? Is it certain?"
"Yes, my general. Look! It was high time!"
It was indeed. For a troop of Gothic horsemen, sent by King Witichis,
had arrived at the pass, crossing the river by a ford, before the
fugitives. But just as they were about to enter it, Cethegus, at the
head of his Illyrians, broke out of his ambush, and, after a short
combat, drove back the surprised Goths.
"The first gleam of victory on this black day!" cried Belisarius. "Up!
to the pass!"
And, in better order than before, the commander led his newly-rallied
troops to the woody hill.
"Welcome to safety, Belisarius," cried Cethegus, as he cleansed the
blade of his sword. "I have waited for you here since daybreak. I was
sure that you would come."
"Prefect of Rome," said Belisarius, reaching out his hand, as he sat on
his horse, "you have saved the Emperor's army, which I had lost. I
thank you!"
The Prefect's fresh troops stood in the pass like an impenetrable wall,
allowing the scattered Byzantines to pass, and repelling without
difficulty the attacks of the first fatigued pursuers, who pressed
forward over the river.
At the close of day. King Witichis withdrew his troops to pass the
night on the conquered field, while Belisarius and his generals, at the
back of the pass, mustered, as well as they could, the scattered
remnants of the army as they arrived, singly or in groups.
As soon as Belisarius had once more a few thousand men together, he
rode up to Cethegus, and said:
"What think you, Prefect of Rome? Your men are still fresh, and mine
have yet to blunt their weapons. Let us sally forth once more, and turn
the fortune of this day. The sun will not set yet awhile."
Cethegus looked at him with astonishment, and quoted Homer's words:
"'Truly thou hast spoken a terrible word, thou mighty one!' You
never-to-be-satisfied man! Is it so hard for you to leave a
battle-field without victory? No, Belisarius. There beckon the ramparts
of Rome. Thither lead your harassed men. I will keep the pass until you
have reached the city; and I shall be glad if I can succeed in doing
so."
And so it was arranged. Under such circumstances Belisarius was less
than ever able to oppose the will of the Prefect. So he yielded, and
led his army back to Rome, where he arrived at nightfall.
For a long time he was refused admittance; for, covered with dust and
blood, it was difficult to recognise him, and many fugitives had
brought word from the field of battle that the commander had fallen,
and that all was lost.
At last Antonina, who waited anxiously upon the walls, recognised her
husband.
He was admitted at the Pincian Gate, which was afterwards named Porta
Belisaria.
Beacons on the walls, between the Flaminian and Pincian Grates,
announced his entrance to Cethegus, who then, under cover of night,
accomplished his retreat in good order, scarcely followed by the
wearied victors.
Teja alone, with a few of his horsemen, pressed forward to the hilly
country, where the Villa Borghese is now situated, and as far as the
Aqua Acetosa.