A Struggle For Rome Volume Iii Part 46

But the animal was wounded, and the way was very steep. Nearer and nearer came the pursuers.

"Is it he?"

"Yes, it is he."

"No, it is not. He is too short," said the leader of the troop, who rode foremost.

"Would he fly alone?"

"That would be the best way to escape," observed the leader.

"It is he most surely; I see the silver swan on his helmet!"

"And the white mantle!"

"But he rode a white horse," said the leader.

"Yes, at first," said one of the hors.e.m.e.n; "but when it fell, struck by my spear, they lifted him--I was close by--upon that charger."

"Enough," said the leader, "you are right. I recognise the horse."

"A n.o.ble animal! How it keeps on, and up hill, too, although wounded."

"Yes, he is a n.o.ble animal! And I will make him stop. Pay attention!

Halt, Pluto!" he shouted. "On your knees!"

Snorting and trembling, the clever, obedient animal, in spite of spur and blows, stood stockstill, and slowly bent its fore-legs in the sand.

"It is ruin, barbarian, to ride the Prefect's horse! There, take that for the Forum! and that for the Capitol! and that for Julius!"

And the Prefect--for he it was--furiously hurled three spears one after the other, his own and two carried by Syphax, at the back of his victim, and with such force that they pa.s.sed completely through the fugitive's body.

Then Cethegus sprang from his horse, drew his sword, and taking the fallen man by the back of his helmet, dragged up his head from the earth.

"Julius!" he screamed in horror.

"You, O Cethegus!" Julius could just murmur.

"Julius! you must not, must not die!"

And Cethegus pa.s.sionately tried to stanch the blood that issued from the three wounds.

"If you love me," said the dying man, "save him--save Totila!" And his gentle eyes closed for ever.

Cethegus put his hand upon the heart of the dead man; he laid his ear upon the bared breast.

"All is over!" he then said, in a faint voice. "O Manilia! Julius, I loved thee! And he died with _his_ name upon his lips! All is over!" he cried again, but this time in a voice of anger; "the last bond which united me to human love I have myself cut, deceived by mocking accident! It was my last weakness! And now all tender feeling, be dead to me! Lift him on to the horse.--This, my Pluto, shall be your last service.--Take him--up there I see a chapel--take him there, and let him be buried with all ceremony by the priests. Merely say that he died as a monk--that he died for his friend. He deserves a Christian burial.

But I," he added, with a terrible expression on his face, "I will once more seek his friend; I will unite them without delay--and for ever."

And he mounted his horse.

"Whither?" asked Syphax. "Back to Taginae?"

"No! down into that wood. He must be hidden there, for thence came Julius."

During these occurrences the King had recovered, and now rode with Adalgoth, Aligern, and a few riders, straight out of the wood, on the outer edge of which the road ascended to the chapel hill. As they issued from the trees they could distinctly perceive the walls of the building.

But they themselves had been seen, for they heard a yell to their right, and over the open level a numerous troop of hors.e.m.e.n came galloping towards them from the river.

The King recognised the leader, and before his companions could prevent him, he spurred his horse, couched his spear, and rushed to meet his enemy. Like two thunderbolts from the lowering heavens, the two hors.e.m.e.n crashed together.

"Insolent barbarian!"

"Miserable traitor!"

And both fell from their horses.

They had met with such fury, that neither of them had thought of defending himself, but only of overthrowing his adversary.

Furius Ahalla had fallen dead, for the King had pierced him to the heart through gilded s.h.i.+eld and breastplate with such force, that the shaft of the spear had broken in the wound. But the King also sank dying into Adalgoth's arms. Ahalla's lance had entered his breast just below his throat.

Adalgoth tore Valerians blue banner out of his belt and tried to stanch the streaming blood--in vain; the bright blue was at once dyed deep red.

"Gothia!" breathed Totila, "Italia! Valeria!"

At this moment, before the unequal fight could commence, Alboin arrived upon the spot with his Longobardians. He had followed the Prefect, not being inclined to remain idle while the fight was going on round the walls of Taginae.

The Longobardian looked silently and with emotion at the corpse of the King.

"He gave me my life--I could not save his," he said gravely.

One of his hors.e.m.e.n pointed to the rich armour worn by the dead man.

"No," said Alboin, "this royal hero must be buried with all his royal trappings."

"There, Alboin, on the rocky height above us," said Adalgoth, "his bride and his tomb, self-chosen, have waited for him long."

"Take him up! I will give safe-conduct to the n.o.ble corpse and the n.o.ble bearers. Now, my men, follow me back to the fight!"

CHAPTER XX.

But the fight was over: as Alboin and the Prefect discovered, to their great disgust, when they again reached Taginae.