A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 37

The heavy axe crashed upon the glittering helmet of the brave defender of the bridge, who fell as if struck by lightning.

Two men sprang towards him and raised his visor.

"Master Hildebrand," cried Aligern in astonishment, "it is no Byzantine!"

"And no Italian!" added Gunthamund.

"Look at his golden locks--it is a Goth!" observed Hunibad.

Hildebrand came forward--and started violently.

"Torches!" he cried; "light! Yes," he added gloomily, taking up his stone axe, "it is a Goth! And I--I have slain him," he concluded, with icy calmness.

But his hand trembled on the shaft of his axe.

"No, master," cried Aligern, "he lives. He was only stunned; he opens his eyes."

"He lives?" asked the old man, shuddering. "May the G.o.ds forbid!"

"Yes, he lives!" repeated the Goths, raising their prisoner.

"Then woe to him, and to me! But no! The G.o.ds of the Goths have delivered him into my power. Bind him upon thy horse, Gunthamund; but firmly. If he escape, it is at the peril of _thy_ head, not his.

Forward! To horse, and home!"

When they arrived at the camp, the escort asked the master-at-arms what they should prepare for their prisoner.

"A bundle of straw for to-night," he answered, "and for to-morrow early--a gallows."

With these words he entered the King's tent, and reported the result of his excursion.

"We have a Gothic deserter among our prisoners," he concluded grimly.

"He must hang before sunset to-morrow."

"That is very sad," said Witichis, sighing.

"Yes; but necessary. I shall summon the court-martial for to-morrow.

Wilt thou preside?"

"No," said Witichis, "exempt me from that. I will appoint Hildebad in my place."

"No," cried the old man, "that will not do. I am commander-in-chief as long as thou keepest thy tent. I demand the presidency as my right."

Witichis looked at him.

"Thou art so grim and cold! Is it an enemy of thy kindred?"

"No," said Hildebrand.

"What is the name of the prisoner?"

"Hildebrand--like mine."

"Meseems thou hatest him--this Hildebrand. Thou mayst judge; but beware of exaggerated severity. Do not forget that I pardon gladly."

"The well-being of the Goths demands his death," said Hildebrand quietly; "and he will die!"

CHAPTER XVI.

Early the next morning the prisoner, with his head covered, was led to a meadow on the north, the "cold corner" of the camp, where were a.s.sembled the leaders of the army and a great part of the troops.

"Listen," said the prisoner to one of his escort; "is old Hildebrand on the Ting-place?"

"He is the head of the Ting."

"They are and will ever remain barbarians! Do me a favour, friend--I will give thee this purple belt for it. Go to the old man; tell him that I know that I must die, but I beg him to spare me, and still more my family--dost thou hear? my _family_--the shame of the gallows. Beg him to send me a weapon secretly."

The Goth, Gunthamund, went to seek Hildebrand, who had already opened the court.

The proceedings were very simple. The old man first caused the law of Regeta to be read aloud; then witnesses proved the taking of the prisoner, and afterwards he was led forward. A woolsack still covered his head and shoulders.

It was just about to be taken off, when Gunthamund reached Hildebrand and whispered in his ear.

"No," cried Hildebrand, frowning; "tell him that the shame of his family is his _deed_, not his punishment," And he called aloud: "Show the face of the traitor! It is Hildebrand, son of Hildegis!"

A cry of astonishment and horror ran through the crowd.

"His own grandchild!"

"Old man, thou shalt not preside! Thou art cruel to thy flesh and blood!" cried Hildebad, starting up.

"Only just; but to every one alike," answered Hildebrand, striking his staff upon the ground.

"Poor Witichis!" whispered Earl Teja.

But Hildebad hurried away to the camp.

"What canst thou say for thyself, son of Hildegis?" asked Hildebrand.

The young man hastily stepped forward; his face was red, but with anger, not with shame. He showed not a trace of fear. His long yellow hair waved in the wind.

The crowd was moved with compa.s.sion.

The mere report of his brave resistance, the discovery of his name, and now his youth and beauty, spoke powerfully in his favour.

With flas.h.i.+ng eyes, he looked around at the crowd, and then fixed them with a proud expression on the old man's face.