A Struggle For Rome Volume I Part 9

"Totila! a sunny youth! a Siegfrid; a favourite of the G.o.ds! No heart can withstand him. But truly, the hearts of these Italians--" He sighed, and then continued, "Who will a.s.sure us of Rome and the Senate?"

"Cethegus Caesarius," said Ca.s.siodorus, with a motion of his hand, "this n.o.ble Roman."

"Cethegus? I know him well. Look at me, Cethegus."

Cethegus, thus addressed, reluctantly raised his eyes, which he had quickly cast down before the steady look of the King. But now, collecting himself, he quietly bore the eagle glance which seemed to penetrate his soul.

"It was a sickly whim, Cethegus, which made a man of your kind withhold himself so long from affairs of state; and from us. Or it was dangerous. Perhaps it is still more dangerous that you--_now_--again take an interest in politics."

"It was not my wish, O King."

"I will answer for him!" cried Ca.s.siodorus.

"Peace, friend! On earth no one can answer for another!--scarcely for himself! But," he continued with a searching look, "this proud intellect--this Caesar-like intellect--will not betray Italia to the Greeks."

Cethegus had to endure one more sharp look from the golden eagle-eyes.

Then the King suddenly grasped his arm, and whispered in his ear: "Listen to my warning. No Roman will ever again flourish on the throne of the Western Empire. Peace! no contradiction. I have warned you. What noise is that outside?" he asked, quickly turning to his daughter; who, in a low voice, was speaking with a Roman messenger.

"Nothing, my King; nothing of importance, my father."

"What! secrets from me? By my crown! Wilt thou govern while I still breathe? I hear the sound of strange tongues outside. Open the doors!"

The doors which divided the outer hall from the ante-room were thrown open. There, in the midst of a number of Goths and Romans, were to be seen several strange and dwarfish forms, clothed in a curious costume, with doublets of wolfskin, pointed caps, and s.h.a.ggy sheep-skins hanging down their backs. Surprised and impressed by the sudden apparition of the King, they sank upon their knees.

"Ah, messengers from the Avarians! Those robber border-ruffians on our eastern boundaries! Have you brought the owing yearly tribute?"

"Sire, once again we bring it: skins, woollen carpets, swords, s.h.i.+elds.

There they hang--there they lie. But we hope that next year--we will see----"

"You will see whether the aged Theodoric has become a dotard? You hoped that I was dead? You think that you can refuse the tribute to my successor? You err, spies!"

And he took up, as if proving its worth, one of the swords which the messengers had laid at his feet, together with its sheath, held it firmly by hilt and point, and with a slight effort snapped the steel in two, and threw the pieces on the ground.

"The Avari carry worthless swords," he said quietly. "Come, Athalaric, heir to my kingdom. They do not believe that thou canst bear the weight of my crown. Show them how thou canst throw my spear."

The youth bounded to him. The scarlet hue of ambition flushed his pale face. He swung the heavy spear of his grandfather, and hurled it with such force at a s.h.i.+eld which the messengers had leaned against one of the wooden pillars, that it completely pierced it and penetrated deeply into the wood.

The King laid his left hand on the head of his grandchild, and said proudly to the messengers:

"Now go, and tell at home what you have seen."

He turned away; the outer doors were closed, and shut out the amazed Avarians.

"Give me a cup of wine. It may possibly be the last! No, unmixed! In Germanic fas.h.i.+on--" he repulsed the Grecian physician. "Thanks, old Hildebrand, for this draught, so faithfully given. I drink prosperity to the Goths!"

He slowly emptied the goblet; and with a hand yet firm and strong he replaced it on the marble table.

But suddenly, like a flash of lightning, that which the physicians had long expected took place. He staggered, pressed his hand to his heart, and fell backwards into Hildebrand's arms; who, slowly kneeling down, let him gently slide on to the marble pavement, supporting his helm-crowned head.

For one moment all present held their breath; but the King did not move, and, with a loud cry, Athalaric threw himself upon the corpse.

CHAPTER VIII.

There was another man, besides Ca.s.siodorus, who played a most important, and, as it seemed to the Regency, a very deserving part, in those days of transition. This was no other than Cethegus. He had undertaken the momentous office of Prefect of Rome. As soon as the King had closed his eyes for ever, Cethegus had instantly hurried to his place of trust, and had arrived there before the news of the event had reached that city.

Before daybreak, he had collected the senators together in the _Senatus_, that is, in the closed hall of Domitian, near the temple of Ja.n.u.s Geminus, on the right of the arch of Septimus Severus, and had surrounded the building with Gothic troops. He informed the surprised senators (many of whom he had only recently met in the Catacombs, and had incited to the expulsion of the barbarians) of the already accomplished succession to the throne. He had also, not without many mild hints as to the spears of the Gothic hundreds, which might easily be seen from the hall, taken their oaths of allegiance to Athalaric with a rapidity that brooked no contradiction.

Then he left the "Senatus," where he kept the conscript fathers locked up, until, with the support of the strong Gothic garrison, he had held a meeting of the a.s.sembled Romans which he had called in the Flavian amphitheatre, and had won the hearts of the easily-moved "Quirites" for the young King.

He enumerated the generous deeds of Theodoric, promised the same beneficence from his grandson, who was, besides, already acknowledged by all Italy and the provinces, and also by the fathers of the city; announced a general feast for the Roman population, with the gift of bread and wine, as the first act of the new government; and concluded with the proclamation of seven days of games in the Circus (races between twenty-four Spanish four-horsed chariots), with which he himself would celebrate the accession of Athalaric, and his own entrance into office.

At once a thousand voices shouted, with loud huzzas, the names of the Queen-Regent and her son; and still more loudly the name of Cethegus.

Then the people joyously dispersed, the imprisoned senators were released, and the Eternal City was won for the Goths.

The Prefect hurried to his house at the foot of the Capitol, locked himself up, and eagerly wrote his report to the Queen-Regent.

But he was soon disturbed by a violent knocking upon the iron door of the house. It was Lucius Licinius, the young Roman whom we have already met in the Catacombs. He struck with the hilt of his sword against the door till the house echoed.

He was followed by Scaevola, the jurist, with portentously frowning brow, who had been amongst the imprisoned senators; and by Silverius, the priest, with doubtful mien.

The ostiarius looked prudently through a secret aperture in the wall, and, on recognising Licinius, admitted them.

Licinius rushed impetuously before the others through the well-known vestibule and the colonnade of the atrium to the study of Cethegus.

When Cethegus heard the hastily-approaching footsteps, he rose from the lectus upon which he was lying writing, and put his letters into a casket with a silver lid.

"Ah, the saviours of the fatherland!" he said, smiling, and advanced towards the door.

"Vile traitor!" shouted Licinius, his hand on his sword--anger impeded further speech; he half drew his sword from the sheath.

"Stop! first let him defend himself, if he can," panted Scaevola, holding the young man's arm, as he hastened into the room.

"It is impossible that he can have deserted the cause of the Holy Church," said Silverius, as he also entered.

"Impossible!" laughed Licinius. "What! are you mad, or am I? Has he not caused us to be confined in our houses? Has he not shut the gates, and taken the oaths of the mob for the barbarians?"

"Has he not," continued Cethegus, "caught the n.o.ble fathers of the city, three hundred in number, and kept them in the Curia, like so many mice in a trap; three hundred aristocratic mice?"

"He dares to mock us? Will you suffer that?" cried Licinius. And Scaevola turned pale with anger.

"Well, and what would you have done had you been allowed to act?" asked the Prefect quietly, crossing his arms on his broad breast.

"What should we have done?" cried Licinius. "What we, and you with us, have a hundred times decided upon. As soon as the news of the tyrant's death had arrived, we should have killed all the Goths in the city, proclaimed a Republic, and chosen two consuls----"

"Of the names of Licinius and Scaevola; that is the first thing. Well, and then? What then?"