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"Not the Greek girl's murderer. I have heard the whole story from your brother."
"No matter; her blood rests on my soul. I felt that as I saw it flow.
Lifting the beautiful body on a horse that very night, I dashed away with it from the eyes of men. Away, always deeper into the desert, till the horse fell. Then, with these hands, I buried her in a sand ravine not far from here. Her wonderfully beautiful hair I cut off; how often I have stroked and caressed it! And I prayed and did penance ceaselessly beside her grave. Pious desert monks found me there, watching and fasting, almost dead. And I confessed to them my heavy sin. They promised G.o.d's forgiveness if, as one of their brotherhood, I would do penance beside that grave forever. I took the vows. They gave me the dress of their order; I wound Glauke's hair around it to remind me always of my sin; and they brought me food in the lonely ravine. But since I heard of the day of Decimum and my brother's death; since the decisive conflict drew nearer and nearer; since you and the enemy pitched your camp close beside my hiding-place; since, two days ago, I heard the war horns of my people,--I have had no peace in my idle praying! Once I wielded the sword not badly. My whole heart yearned to follow once more, for the last time, the call of the battle trumpets.
Alas! I dared not; I knew I was not worthy. But last night, in a dream, _she_ appeared to me,--her human beauty transfigured into an angel's radiant loveliness, no longer any trace of earth about her; and she said: 'Go to your brothers-in-arms, ask for a sword, and fight and fall for your people. That will be the best atonement.' Oh, believe me, my King! I do not lie with the name of that saint on my lips. If you can forgive me for her sake--oh, let me--"
Zazo stepped forward, drew the sword from the sheath of one of his own warriors, and gave it to the monk. "Here, Thrasabad, son of Thrasamer!
I will answer for it to the King. Do you see? He, too, is nodding to you. Take this sword and go with my men. You will probably need no scabbard. Now, King Gelimer, let the horns bray. Forward! at the foe!"
CHAPTER XIV
The King, with a keen eye of a general, had seen that the crisis of the battle would be decided in the centre of the two armies, where on the southwest at the left, and on the northeast at the right of the little stream, rose a succession of low hills. Besides, deserters from the Huns had reported that in the next encounter these troops would either not fight at all, or take a very inactive part; therefore Gelimer expected from the right Roman wing no peril to his own left flank. He stationed the right wing of the Vandal troops tolerably far back, so that the enemy would have to march a considerable distance to reach it.
Perhaps by that time the centre might already have won the victory, and thereby obtained the accession of the Huns.
So the King placed the best strength of his troops in the centre. By far the larger portion consisted of cavalry; there was a small force of infantry, Zazo's warriors, numbering nearly five thousand; here, too, he had posted Gibamund with his faithful two hundred men; here were the two Gundings and their numerous kinsmen, with boar helmets and boar s.h.i.+elds, like their leaders; here he himself took his station with a large body of cavalry, to which he added the few faithful Moors from the Pappua Mountains under their young chief, Sersaon. The command of the two wings he had intrusted to two other n.o.blemen. Before the beginning of the battle and during its course, Gelimer dashed in person on a swift horse everywhere through the ranks, rousing and stimulating the courage of his men.
The conflict began as the King had planned, by a total surprise of the foe. Just at the time the Byzantines were busied in preparing the morning meal, Gelimer suddenly led the centre of his army from behind the shelter of the row of tents to the left bank of the marshy little brook. This stream was so small that it had no name, yet it never dried up. And the left bank occupied by the Vandals was higher than the right. Belisarius was not yet on the ground, but his subordinate officers arranged their men as well as they could in their haste, where each division happened to be standing or lying. The right Roman wing on the hill consisted of the Huns, who did not move. Next to them, according to secret orders, stood Fara with the Herulians, watching these doubtful allies. Then followed, in the centre, Althias the Thracian and Johannes the Armenian, with their picked troops of their fellow-countrymen, and the s.h.i.+eld and lance bearers of Belisarius's bodyguard. Here gleamed the imperial standard, the _vexillum praetorium_, the flag of the General, Belisarius. The left Roman wing was formed of the other auxiliary troops except the Huns. The Byzantines, too, had perceived that the victory would be decided in the centre of the two armies. When Gibamund, on his white charger, led his men forward, Hilda on her splendid stallion rode at his side. By her husband's wish she had protected her beautiful head with a light helmet, on which rose two white falcon wings; her bright golden locks flowed over her white mantle. He had also pressed upon her a small, s.h.i.+ning s.h.i.+eld, with a light silvery hue. Her white lower robe was girdled with the black belt which supported the sheath of Teja's dagger; but she had refused a breastplate on account of its weight.
"You will not let me fight with you or even ride by your side," she complained.
Already the Byzantines' arrows were flying over the Vandals and striking among Gibamund's men.
"Halt, love," he commanded, "go no farther! Not within reach of the arrows! Wait here, on this little hill. I will leave ten men as a guard. From this spot you can see a long distance. Watch the white heron's wings on my helmet, and the dragon banner. I shall follow it."
A clasp of the hand; Gibamund dashed forward; Hilda quietly checked the docile horse. Her face was very pale.
The first encounter came at once.
Johannes the Armenian, one of Belisarius's best leaders, pressed with his countrymen through the stream, which reached only to their knees, and rushed out of it up the steeper Vandal sh.o.r.e. He was instantly hurled back. Zazo, with his foremost warriors, darted upon him with the weight with which a bird of prey strikes small game. Down the slope, into the midst of the stream, whose water was soon dyed red, and up the opposite bank, swept the Vandal pursuit. Hilda saw it plainly from her station. "Oh, at last, at last," she cried, "a breath of victory!"
But Zazo followed no farther. He prudently led his men back to the left bank of the stream. "We will pitch them down here again," he said, laughing; "we will profit once more by our position on the height."
The Armenians bore their brave leader away with them in their flight.
Johannes, who had received through his s.h.i.+eld a wound in the arm from Zazo's sword, said grimly to Marcellus, the commander of the bodyguard: "The devil has got into the cowards of Decimum. It confuses my spearmen to have them fight solely with the sword. The Barbarians thrust the long spears to the right, run under them, and cut the men down. And this fellow with the buffalo helm actually b.u.t.ts like a mountain bull.
Give me your s.h.i.+eld-bearers; I will try again."
With the s.h.i.+eld-bearers, led by Martinus, the Armenians renewed the attack. Not an arrow, not a spear, flew to meet them; but as soon as they began to climb the Vandal sh.o.r.e, the Germans dashed down on them with the sword in a hand-to-hand conflict. Martinus fell by Gibamund's sword. Then the s.h.i.+eld-bearers fled; the Armenians hesitated, wavered, fell into confusion, finally they, too, fled, pursued by the Vandals.
"Dash on the foemen!
Strive with and strike them Down in close combat!"
rose in a roar from Zazo's troops, whom the latter again led to the left sh.o.r.e.
"They must repeatedly see the backs of the dreaded Byzantines before they have the courage to defeat them entirely," he said to Gibamund, who urged pursuit. "And where is Belisarius?"
The latter, with his five hundred hors.e.m.e.n, had reached the centre from Carthage just in time to see the flight of his men. When he learned that this was the second attack which had been repulsed, he ordered all his bodyguard, men trained to fight on foot as well as on horseback, to dismount and advance with Althias's Thracians for the third a.s.sault.
His own special standard, the "General's banner," he commanded to be borne before them.
It was a mighty, a menacing spectacle. The tuba of the Romans blared to greet the standard of the commanding General. The Byzantines, in firmly closed ranks, advanced like a moving wall of bronze, their long lances levelled. Zazo saw that his men hesitated. "Forward! Cross the stream!
On to the attack!"
He dashed on in advance of his troops. But he soon perceived that only a very few--the Gundings and their boar-helmeted kinsmen--were following. "Forward!" he commanded again. But the Vandals delayed. They felt that the rush down from the height had made their success far easier; they did not wish to leave the vantage-ground, and--they had seen Belisarius in the distance. The ranks of levelled lances, terrible, threatening, drew nearer and nearer.
"If we only had our spears!" cried voices in the ranks behind him. The Byzantines had already reached the stream; now they were wading through the marshy rivulet,--yet the Vandals on the heights did not obey the command to charge.
"You _will_ not cross?" cried Zazo, furiously. "Then you _must_!" With these words he tore Genseric's dragon banner from the hand of the horseman at his right and shouting: "Bring back the standard and your honor!" he hurled it with all his strength across the stream into the midst of the Byzantines. Loud cries rose from friends and enemies.
One of the Byzantines instantly s.n.a.t.c.hed the banner from the ground, raised it aloft, and was hurrying with it to Belisarius. But he did not go far. For when they saw the treasure of the kingdom in the hands of the foe, all the Vandals, on horseback and on foot, following their n.o.bles, rushed down the slope into the stream and the midst of the enemy. By Zazo's side, on a powerful stallion, rode a strange figure,--a monk without helmet, s.h.i.+eld, or breastplate; he wore a gray cowl and carried a sword. Breaking a pa.s.sage through the hostile ranks, he reached the captor of the scarlet banner, tore it from his hand, and, with a single sword-stroke, cleft helmet and skull. It was Valeria.n.u.s, the commander of the lance-bearers.
The victor swung the rescued standard high aloft, and instantly fell from his horse, pierced by five lances. But Gundobad, the Gunding, raised the banner from the hand of the sinking figure.
"Here, to the rescue," he shouted, "kinsmen of the Gundings! Here, you boars!"
Immediately his brother and the whole troop of boar helms gathered around him; the banner and its bearer were cut out for the moment. The ranks of the foe nearest to the Vandal banner wavered, yielded.
"Victory!" shouted the Vandals, pressing boldly forward, singing,--
"Forward to battle!
Follow the standard, The fame-heralded Consort of victory."
They struck their sword-blades on their s.h.i.+elds till the sound echoed far and wide.
"Victory!" cried Hilda, exultantly, as she witnessed the whole magnificent spectacle.
CHAPTER XV
Belisarius also witnessed it from his station on the hill. "Fly," he cried to Procopius; "fly to Fara and the Herulians! They must swing to the left and take those red rags."
"And the Huns?" asked Procopius under his breath. "Look yonder; they are riding slowly forward, but not westward, not against the Vandals."
"Obey! This German war dance around the red banner must first be put to a b.l.o.o.d.y end, or their Teutonic battle fiend will take possession of them, and then all is over. My face alone will keep the Huns in check, should there be need of it."
Meanwhile the dragon banner had again changed bearers. All the lances and arrows were aimed at the dangerous emblem, visible far and wide.
Gundobad's horse fell; its rider did not rise again. But his brother Gundomar took the standard from the dying n.o.ble's hand and ran the point of its shaft into the throat of Cypria.n.u.s, the second leader of the Thracians, whose battle-axe had cleft Gundobad's helmet and head as he tried to spring up from his dead charger.
Hilda had seen the red banner disappear for a moment, and anxiously gave her stallion a light blow with her hand. The fiery animal shot forward in frantic haste; not until she reached the edge of the stream could the Princess draw rein. Her companions gained the new position much later.
Althias now reached the second Gunding. Unequal, unfavorable to every bearer of the standard was the conflict. His left hand, holding the bridle and the heavy standard, could not use the s.h.i.+eld, and this burden also impeded very considerably the action of his right arm in defence. After a short struggle Gundomar, transfixed by the Thracian's spear, sank from his horse. But Gibamund was already on the spot, and Zazo, das.h.i.+ng close behind him, no sooner saw the standard safe in his brother's hand than he shouted, "Belisarius has a banner too."
Turning swiftly to the left, by the mere weight of his horse he burst through a rank of the Thracians, reached Belisarius's bodyguard, who bore the gold-embroidered standard, and, with a sword-stroke through the front of the helmet into his brow, felled him. The Roman General's banner sank, while Gibamund, surrounded and protected by his band of picked warriors, waved the scarlet dragon standard high in the air.
Hilda saw it distinctly. Involuntarily she obeyed the impulse to go forward after the victory. The stallion, yielding to the lightest movement, bore her across the stream, whose water barely wet the edge of her long white robe. She was on the other side. She was pursuing victory. Before her, a little to the left, she already saw Gelimer and his troops; the whole Vandal centre was advancing. It was the crisis, the turning-point of the battle.
Again Althias tried to force his way through the Vandal ranks to Gibamund himself; he had almost reached him, and they had exchanged two whizzing sword-strokes, which made the sparks fly from their blades, when from the left cries of grief and rage fell on the Thracian's ear from the Byzantines. He turned, and saw his General's banner sink.
This was the second time; for Zazo had already struck down the second man who bore it. The victor was stretching his hand toward the shaft, which no third man seemed inclined to lift.