A Struggle For Rome Volume Ii Part 41

"Down with the rebels!" thundered the soldiers, glad to find an outlet for their excited pa.s.sions.

But the King made a sign.

"Peace! No more shall Gothic blood flow from wounds made by Gothic weapons. Wait patiently here. Thou, Hildebad, open the gate for me.

None shall follow me. I alone go to the rebels. Thou, Earl Teja, control the troops until I return. But thou, Hildebrand," he cried, raising his voice, "ride to the gates of Ravenna, and loudly bid them open. Their desire is fulfilled, and, before evening, we will enter: King Witichis and Queen Mataswintha."

He spoke these words with such sorrowful dignity, that the hearers received them in reverent silence.

Hildebad opened the gate of the camp. Without could be discerned the rebels, approaching at a quick march; loudly sounded their war-cry as the gate opened.

King Witichis gave his sword to Earl Teja, and rode slowly to meet them. The gate closed behind him.

"He seeks death," whispered Hildebad.

"No," said Teja, "he seeks the salvation of the Goths."

On recognising the solitary horseman, the rebels were amazed. Near the brothers--who marched at the head of the troops--rode the chief of the Avarian archers. He held his hand over his small and twinkling eyes and cried:

"By the horse of the war-G.o.d, that is the King himself! Now, my boys, sons of the steppes, aim well, and the war is over!" and he quickly took his bow from his shoulder.

"Stop, Chan Warchun," cried Duke Guntharis, laying his mailed hand upon the other's shoulder. "Thou hast sadly erred twice in the same breath.

Thou hast called Earl Witichis the King: that may be forgiven thee.

Thou wouldst murder him who comes as a messenger of peace. That may be Avarian, but is not Gothic custom. Away with thee and thy troop out of my camp!"

The Chan started and looked at Guntharis in astonishment.

"Away, at once!" repeated Duke Guntharis.

The Avarian laughed and signed to his hors.e.m.e.n.

"'Tis all one to me. Children, we go to Belisarius. Queer people, these Goths! Giant bodies with children's hearts!"

Meanwhile Witichis had ridden up.

Guntharis and Arahad looked at him inquiringly.

Unusual solemnity was added to the customary simple dignity of his manner; the majesty of deep grief.

"I come to speak with you of the welfare of the Goths. Brother shall slay brother no more. Let us enter Ravenna together, and together conquer Belisarius. I shall wed Mataswintha, and you two shall stand nearest to my throne."

"Never!" cried Arahad pa.s.sionately.

"Thou forgettest," said Duke Guntharis proudly, "that thy bride is in _our_ tents."

"Duke Guntharis of Tuscany, I might answer that shortly _we_ shall be in your tents. We are more numerous and not less brave than you, and, Duke, we have right on our side. I will not speak of that, but only warn you of the fate of the Goths. Should you conquer _us_, you are too weak to conquer Belisarius. Even united, we are scarcely strong enough for that. Give way!"

"It is for thee to give way," said the Wolfung. "If thou lovest the Goths, lay down thy crown. Canst thou make no sacrifice for thy people?"

"I can. I have done so. Hast thou a wife, O Guntharis?"

"I have a dear wife."

"I too! I _had_ a dear wife. I have sacrificed her to my people. I have sent her away, in order to woo Mataswintha."

Duke Guntharis was silent.

But Arahad cried: "Then thou hast never loved her!"

Witichis started; the force of his grief and his love redoubled. His cheeks flushed, and casting an annihilating look at the alarmed youth, he cried:

"Talk not to me of love! Blaspheme not, thou foolish boy! Because red lips and white limbs flash before thee in thy dreams, darest thou to speak of love? What knowest thou of what I have lost in this wife, the mother of my sweet child? A world of love and faith! Irritate me not.

My heart is sore. I control my pain and despair with difficulty. Do not exasperate them, or they will break loose!"

Duke Guntharis had become very thoughtful.

"I knew thee, Witichis, in the wars with the Gepidae. Never saw I ign.o.ble man deal such n.o.ble strokes. I know that there is nought false in thee. I know the love which binds a man to a good wife. And thou hast sacrificed such a wife to thy people? That is much!"

"Brother, of what thinkest thou?" cried Arahad. "What dost thou intend to do?"

"I intend not to allow the House of the Wolfungs to be outdone in generosity. n.o.ble blood, Arahad, demands n.o.ble acts! Tell me one thing more, Witichis. Wherefore hast thou not rather sacrificed thy crown, even thy life, than thy wife?"

"Because it would have been the certain destruction of the kingdom.

Twice I would have yielded the crown to Earl Arahad; twice the leaders of my army swore that they would never acknowledge him. Three, four Gothic kings might have been chosen, but, by my honour, Earl Arahad would never have been acknowledged. Then I tore my wife from my bleeding heart; and now, Duke Guntharis, remember thou also the people of the Goths. The House of the Wolfungs is lost if the Goths are lost.

If Belisarius lay the axe to the roots of the trunk, the n.o.blest branches will fall too. I have renounced my wife, the crown of my life; renounce thou the hope of a crown!"

"It shall not be sung in the halls of the Goths that the freedman Witichis was more self-sacrificing than the chief of the n.o.bility! The strife is at an end; I greet thee, my King."

And the proud Duke bent his knee to Witichis, who raised him and pressed him to his heart.

"Brother! brother! what shame thou dost me!" cried Arahad.

"I look upon it as an honour," said Guntharis quietly. "And as a sign that my King sees no cowardice, but rather n.o.bleness, in my homage, I beg a favour. Amelungs and Balthes have ousted my family from the place which belonged to it among the people of the Goths."

"At this moment," answered Witichis, "thou hast redeemed that place.

The Goths shall never forget that the generosity of the Wolfungs has saved them from a civil war."

"And, as a sign of this, thou wilt give us the right to bear the standard of the Goths before the troops in every battle?"

"Be it so," said the King, giving him his right hand; "and none can be more worthy."

"Thanks, O King! Let us now go to Mataswintha."

"Mataswintha!" cried Arahad, who had looked on at this reconciliation, which buried all his hopes, in dismay. "Ha! you remind me at the right time. You can take the crown from me--let it go--but not my love, and not the duty of protecting my beloved. She has refused me, but I shall love her until death! I have protected her from my brother, who would have forced her to wed me. No less faithfully will I protect her now if you two attempt to force her to give her hand to my hated enemy. That hand, which is dearer to me than all the crowns of the world, shall be free!"

And he quickly mounted his horse, and galloped off to the camp.

Witichis looked after him anxiously.

"Let him go," said Duke Guntharis; "we two, united, have nothing to fear. Let us now reconcile the troops, since the leaders are friends."