The Scarlet Banner - BestLightNovel.com
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"And a captive," added Gibamund.
They hastened to rouse the King. But Gelimer came in full armor out of his tent to meet them.
"You are stained with blood--both. You, too, Ammata; are you wounded?"
His voice was tremulous with anxiety.
"No," laughed the handsome boy, his eyes sparkling brightly. "It is the blood of the enemy."
"The first that has been shed in this war," replied the King, gravely, "sullies your pure hand. Oh, if I had not consented--"
"It would have been unfortunate," Gibamund interrupted. "Our child has done well. Go to the tent for Hilda, my lad, while I deliver the report. So, chafing with impatience, we long endured your keeping us so far away from the foe; we have followed their march at a great distance, unsuspected even by their farthest outposts. When to-night you finally permitted us to ride nearer to their flank than usual, in order to discover whether they really intended to go to Decimum to-day unprotected by the fleet, and to pa.s.s at noon through the Narrow Way, you said that if we could obtain a captive without causing much disturbance, it would be desirable. Well, we have not only a prisoner, but more; we found an important strip of parchment on him. And it is fortunate; for the man refuses to give any information. See, they are bringing him yonder. There come Thrasaric and Eugenia; and Ammata is already drawing Hilda here by the hand."
"Welcome," cried the young wife, hastening toward her beloved husband, but she shrank in embarra.s.sment from his embrace, for the captive was already standing before the King. With hands bound behind his back, he darted savage glances from beneath his bushy brows at the Vandals, especially at Ammata. Blood trickled from his left cheek upon the white sheepskin that covered his shoulders; his lower garment also--it reached only to the knee--was of untanned leather; his feet were bare; a huge spur was buckled with a thong on his right heel, and four gold disks, bestowed by the Emperor and his generals in honor of brave deeds (like our orders), were fastened on his heavy leather breastplate.
"So," continued Gibamund, "toward midnight, with only ten Vandals and two Moors behind us, we rode out of camp toward the distant light of the hostile campfires, cautiously concealing ourselves behind the long mounds of sand, stretching for half a league, which the desert wind is constantly heaping up and blowing away again, especially just on the edge of the wilderness. Under the protection of this cover, we advanced unseen so far eastward that we saw by the glare of a watchfire--probably lighted to drive away the wild beasts--four hors.e.m.e.n. Two sat crouching on their little nags, with their bows bent, gazing intently toward the southwest, whence we had come; the other two had dismounted and were leaning against the shoulders of their horses.
The points of their lances glittered in the flickering light of the fire.
"I motioned to the two Moors, whom I had taken with us for this clever trick. Slipping noiselessly from their steeds, they threw themselves flat on the ground and were scarcely distinguishable in the darkness from the surrounding sand. They crept on all fours in a wide circle, one to the left, the other to the right, around the fire and the sentinels, until they stood northeast and northwest of them. They had soon vanished from our sight, for they glided as swiftly as lizards.
"Soon we heard, on the other side of the watchfire, toward the north, the hoa.r.s.e, menacing cry of the leopardess going out with her cubs on the nocturnal quest of prey. The mother was instantly answered by the beseeching cry of her young. The four horses of the sentinels s.h.i.+ed, their manes bristled; the scream of the leopardess came nearer, and all four of the strangers--they had probably never heard such a sound--turned in the direction of the noise. One of the horses reared violently, the rider swayed, clinging to its mane; another, trying to help him, s.n.a.t.c.hed at the bridle, his bow falling from his hand.
Profiting by the confusion of the moment, we glided forward in perfect silence from behind the sand-hill. We had wrapped cloth around the horses' hoofs, and almost reached them unseen; not until we were close by the fire did one of the mounted men discover us. 'Foes!' he shouted, darting away. The other rider followed. The third did not reach the saddle; I struck him down as he was mounting. But the fourth--this man here, the leader--was on his horse's back in an instant; he ran down the two Moors who tried to stop him, and would have escaped, but Ammata--our child"--he pointed to the boy; the captive gnashed his teeth furiously--"shot after him like an arrow on his little white steed--"
"Pegasus!" Ammata interrupted. "You know, brother, you brought him to me from the last Moorish war. He really goes as though he had wings."
"--reached him, and before any one of us could lend a.s.sistance, with a swift double thrust--"
"You taught me, Gelimer!" cried Ammata, with sparkling eyes, for he could no longer restrain himself.
"--of the short-sword, he thrust the enemy's long spear aside and dealt him a heavy blow on the cheek. But the brave fellow, heedless of the pain, dropped the spear and gripped the battle-axe in his belt. Then our child threw the noose around his neck--"
"You know--the antelope cast!" Ammata exclaimed to Gelimer.
"And with a jerk dragged him from his horse."
Gibamund spoke in the Vandal tongue, but the captive understood everything from the accompanying gestures, and now shrieked in the Latin of the camp, "May my father's soul pa.s.s into a dog if that be not avenged! I, the great-grandson of Attila--I--dragged from my horse by a boy--with a noose! Beasts are caught thus, not warriors!"
"Calm yourself, my little friend," replied Thrasaric, approaching him.
"There is a good old motto among all the Gothic nations: 'Spare the wolf rather than the Hun.' Besides, that royal bird, the ostrich, is captured in the same way when he is overtaken. So it's no disgrace to you." Laughing heartily, he straightened the heavy helmet with the bear's head.
"We reached the two at once," Gibamund continued, "bound the man, who fought like a wild boar, and s.n.a.t.c.hed from his teeth this strip of parchment which he was trying to swallow."
The prisoner groaned.
"What is your name?" asked the King, glancing hastily at the parchment.
"Bleda."
"How strong is your army in hors.e.m.e.n?"
"Go and count them."
"Friend Hun," said Thrasaric, in a threatening tone, "a king is speaking to you. Behave civilly, little wolf. Answer politely the questions you are asked, or--"
The prisoner glanced defiantly toward Gelimer, saying, "This gold disk was given to me by the great General with his own hands after our third victory over the Persians. Do you think I would betray Belisarius?"
"Lead him away," said Gelimer, waving his hand. "Bind up his wound.
Treat him kindly."
The Hun cast another glance of mortal hate at Ammata, then he followed his guards.
Gelimer again looked at the parchment. "I thank you, my boy," he said, "I thank you. You have indeed brought us no trivial thing, the order of the enemy's march to-day. Follow me to my tent, my generals; there you shall hear my plan of attack. We need not wait for the arrival of the Moors. I think, if the Lord is not wrathful with us--but let us have no sinful arrogance--Oh, Ammata, how I rejoice to have you again alive!
After your departure I had a terrible dream about you. G.o.d has restored you to me once--I will not tempt Him a second time." Going close to the boy and laying his hand on his shoulder, he said in his sternest tone: "Listen; I forbid you to fight in the battle to-day."
"What?" cried Ammata, furiously, turning deadly pale. "That is impossible! Gelimer, I beseech--"
"Silence," said the King, frowning, "and obey."
"Why," cried Gibamund; "I should think you might let him go. He has shown--"
"Oh, brother, brother," exclaimed Ammata, tears streaming from his eyes, "how have I deserved this punishment?"
"Is this his reward for to-night's deed?" warned Thrasaric.
"Silence, all of you," Gelimer commanded sternly. "It is decided. He shall _not_ fight with us. He is still a boy."
Ammata stamped his foot angrily.
"And oh, my darling," Gelimer added, clasping the vehemently resisting lad in his arms, "let me confess it. I love you so tenderly, with such undue affection, that anxiety for you would not leave me for a single instant during the battle, and I need all my thoughts for the foe."
"Then let me fight by your side; protect me yourself!"
"I dare not. I dare not think of you. I must think of Belisarius."
"Indeed, I pity him from my inmost soul," cried Hilda, in pa.s.sionate excitement. "I am a woman, and it is hard enough for me not to go with you: but a boy of fifteen!"
Eugenia timidly pulled her back by the robe, stroking and kissing her hand; but Hilda, smoothing the boy's golden locks, went on: "It is a duty, it is a patriotic duty, that every man who can--especially a son of the royal house--should fight for his people. This lad can fight; he has proved it. So do not refuse him to his people. My ancestor taught me that only he who is to fall will fall."
"Sinful paganism!" exclaimed the King, wrathfully.
"Well, then, let me address you as a Christian. Is this your trust in G.o.d, Gelimer? Who in the two armies is as guiltless as this child? O King, I am less devout than you, but I have confidence enough in the G.o.d of Heaven to believe that he will protect this boy in our just cause. Ay, should this purest, fairest scion of the Asding race fall, it would be like a judgment of G.o.d, proclaiming that we are indeed corrupt in His eyes!"
"Hold!" cried the King, in anguish. "Do not probe the deepest wounds of my breast. If he _should_ fall now? If a judgment of G.o.d, as you called it, should so terribly overtake us? Doubtless he is free from guilt as far as human beings can be. But have you forgotten the terrible words of menace--about the iniquity of the fathers? If I experienced _that_, I should see in it the curse of vengeance fulfilled, and I believe I should despair."
He began to pace swiftly up and down.
Then Gibamund whispered to his wife, who shook her proud head silently but wrathfully, "Let him go. Such anxiety in the brain of the commander-in-chief will do more harm than the spears of twenty boys can render service."
"But arrows fly far," cried Ammata, defiantly. "If, like a miserable coward, I remain behind your backs, I can fall here in the camp if the foes conquer. I certainly will not be taken captive," he added fiercely, seizing his dagger, and throwing back his head till his fair locks floated over his light-blue armor. "Better put me in a church at once--but a Catholic one; that would be a safe sanctuary, devout King."