The Scarlet Banner Part 37

Just at that moment, close at hand on the right, German horns sounded in Zazo's ears. The Herulians, das.h.i.+ng on their snorting horses upon the Vandals' flank, broke through several of their ranks to their leader.

A spear--well aimed, for Fara had hurled it--shattered the buffalo helm on the hero's head. He could no longer think of Belisarius's banner. He was obliged to consider his own safety.

"Help, brother Gelimer!" he shouted.

"I am here, brother Zazo," rang the answer. For the King was already at hand. Slowly following the advance of the brothers, he had led his Vandals and Moors nearer and nearer, and noticed the second charge and the moment of peril.

"Forward! Cut Zazo out," he shouted, das.h.i.+ng upon the Herulians at the head of his men. A warrior sprang to meet him, clutched the bridle of the cream-colored charger with his left hand, and aimed his spear with the right. Before it flew, Gelimer's sword had pierced the Herulian's throat. Hilda saw it; for, as if irresistibly attracted by the battle, she rode nearer and nearer.

Just at this moment she perceived Verus in full priestly robes, unarmed, dash past her straight to the King. It was no easy task to force a pa.s.sage to his side through the Moors and Vandals. Gelimer struck down a second spear-man, a third. Already he was close to Zazo.

The charge of his Vandals now came full upon the Herulians. The latter did not yield, but they no longer gained a foot of ground. As two wrestlers, with arms interlocked, each unable to move the other from the spot, measure equal strength, the German warriors surged to and fro. Victory hung in the balance.

"Where are the foot-soldiers?" asked Belisarius, glancing anxiously toward the distant heights where the Numidian road extended toward Carthage.

"I have sent out three messengers," answered Procopius. "There! The Thracians are yielding! The Armenians are falling back! The Herulians are now pressed by greatly superior numbers."

"Forward, Illyrians, save the battle for me. Belisarius himself will lead you--"

And with a loud blare of trumpets, the General dashed down the hill to the aid of the Herulians. Gelimer heard the flourish, saw the charge, and summoned reinforcements from the rearguard.

"There," he shouted, pointing with his sword, "and join me in the battle-song,

"Vengeance is preparing The avenger of right."

"You here, Verus? What news do you bring? Your face is--"

"O King!" cried the priest, "what blood-guiltiness!"

"What has happened?"

"The messenger I sent to the prisoners--one of my freedmen--misunderstood your words: 'Have them taken away, where no one can free them.'"

"Well?"

"He has--he reported it to me, and fled when he saw my wrath."

"Well, what is it?"

"He has--killed Hilderic and Euages."

"Omniscient G.o.d!" cried the King, paling. "That was not my wish."

"But still more," Verus went on.

"Help, Gelimer!" Zazo's voice shouted from the densest ranks of the conflict.

Belisarius and his Illyrians had now reached him. Gibamund was by his side. Gelimer also spurred his horse.

But Verus grasped his bridle, shouting in his ear: "The letter, the warning to Hilderic--I found it just now, wedged between two drawers in the coffer. Here it is. Hilderic did not lie! He only wished to protect himself against you. Innocent--he was deposed, imprisoned, slain!"

Gelimer, speechless with horror, stared for a moment into the priest's stony face; he seemed stupefied. Then the battle-song of his men echoed in his ears:--

"Vengeance is preparing High in the heavens The avenger of right!"

"Woe, woe is me! I am a criminal, a murderer," the King shrieked aloud.

The sword slipped from his grasp. He covered his face with both hands.

A terrible convulsion shook him. He seemed falling from the saddle.

Verus supported him, wheeled the King's horse so that his back was toward the foe, and gave the animal a blow on the hind quarter with all his strength. The charger dashed madly away. Sersaon and Markomer, the leaders of the cavalry, supported the swaying figure on the right and left.

"Help! help! I am being overcome, brother Gelimer!" Zazo's voice again rose,--more urgently, nay, despairingly. But it was drowned by the wild, frantic cries of the Vandals.

"Fly! fly! The King himself has fled! Fly! Save the women, the children!" And the Vandals, by hundreds, now wheeled their horses and dashed away toward the stream and the camp.

Then Hilda, now only a few paces from the tumult, saw Zazo's towering figure disappear. His horse, pierced by a spear, fell; it was bleeding from more than one wound. But the hero sprang up again.

Fara the Herulian reached him from the left, and cleft his dragon-s.h.i.+eld with his battle-axe. Zazo flung the pieces at the helmet of the Herulian, stunning him so that he swayed in his saddle. Now Barbatus, the Illyrian leader, his long lance levelled, pressed upon Zazo from the right. With his last strength Zazo pushed it aside, sprang to the right, the s.h.i.+eldless side of the rider, and thrust his sword into his neck between the helmet and breastplate. Barbatus sank slowly from the saddle toward the left. But, in springing back, Zazo had fallen on his knees. Before he could rise, two hors.e.m.e.n with levelled lances stood before him.

"Help, Gibamund!" called the kneeling Prince, raising his left arm above his head in place of a s.h.i.+eld. He looked around. Everywhere foes, no Vandal. Yes,--one. Yonder still waved the scarlet banner. "Help, Gibamund!" he cried.

One of his two a.s.sailants fell from his horse. Gibamund was at Zazo's side. He had struck the man under the shoulder of his upraised arm with the spear-point of the banner staff. But now Fara, who meanwhile had recovered from Zazo's blow, dropping his bridle, grasped with his left hand at the shaft of the scarlet standard. With great difficulty Gibamund defended himself with his sword against the tremendous blows the Herulian's right arm dealt with his battle-axe. And already the other horseman, in front of Zazo, bent a leonine face toward him.

"Yield, brave man. Yield to me. I am Belisarius."

But Zazo shook his head. With failing strength he sprang up, his sword raised to strike. Then the Roman General drove the point of his spear with all his force through his breastplate up to the handle.

The dying warrior cast one more glance toward the left. He saw Gibamund's white horse, covered with blood-stains, falling; he saw the scarlet banner sink. "Woe betide thee, Vandalia!" he cried, as his eyes grew dim in death.

"That was indeed a hero," said Belisarius, bending over him. "Where is Genseric's banner, Fara?"

"Gone!" replied the latter, wrathfully. "Far away. Do you see? It is already vanis.h.i.+ng over there, beyond the stream."

"Who has--?"

"A woman. In a falcon helmet. With a s.h.i.+ning white s.h.i.+eld. I believe it was a Valkyria," said the pagan, with a slight s.h.i.+ver of fear. "It happened so swiftly I scarcely saw it. I had just struck down the young standard-bearer's horse. Just at that moment a black steed--I never saw such an animal--plunged against my own horse so that it fell back upon its haunches. I heard a cry: 'Hilda! I thank you!' At the same moment the black charger dashed far, far away from me. I think it now carried two figures! A long fluttering white mantle--or was it swan-wings?--and above floated the scarlet banner. There, now they are vanis.h.i.+ng in that cloud of dust. 'Hilda!' the German murmured to himself. The name suits too. Yes, the Valkyria bore him away."

"Forward!" shouted Belisarius. "Follow! Over the stream! There is no longer a Vandal army. The centre is broken and defeated. Their left wing--aha, look yonder, our right wing, the faithful Huns--" He laughed grimly. "Now they are rus.h.i.+ng from their hill, hewing down the flying Barbarians. What heroism! And how they are all struggling to reach the camp to plunder! Now, at last, our infantry have joined our left wing; there, too, the Vandals are flying without a struggle. On, to the camp!

Do not let the Huns secure the whole booty. All the gold and silver for the Emperor, the pearls and precious stones for the Empress! Forward!"

CHAPTER XVI

PROCOPIUS TO CETHEGUS:

I have witnessed many a battle, many a conflict of Belisarius,--usually from a very safe distance,--but never have I seen so strange an encounter. In this, which decides the fate of the Vandal kingdom, we have lost in all only forty-nine men, but solely picked warriors, and among them eight commanders. Fara, Althias, and Johannes,--all three are wounded. Yet we have not many--perhaps a hundred--wounded men, as the Vandals fought only with the sword. That yields almost as many killed as wounded. Most of our dead and wounded may be credited to the three Asdings, two n.o.blemen in boar helmets, and an apparently crazy monk. Eight hundred Vandal corpses covered the field, by far the larger number of these fell during the flight. We have captured, sound and wounded, about ten thousand men; women and children unnumbered. In our two wings we did not lose a single warrior, except one Hun whom Belisarius was unfortunately compelled to hang. He had stuffed pockets, shoes, hair, and ears with pearls and gems which he picked up in the Vandal camp, especially in the women's tents, and which our Empress has honestly earned.

Our pursuit of the Vandals was checked only by our greed. The fallen and captive Vandals had many ornaments of gold and silver on their persons, their horses, and themselves; our heroes plundered every one before pa.s.sing on. Our hors.e.m.e.n, who reached the camp first, did not venture, in spite of their longing to pillage, to enter it at once; they thought it impossible that a force so superior in numbers should not defend their own camp, their wives and children.

The King is said to have paused a moment as if stupefied; but when Belisarius with our whole body appeared before the tents, he exclaimed, "The avenger!" and pursued his flight toward Numidia, attended by a few relatives, servants, and faithful Moors. Now all the Vandal warriors who had reached the camp scattered in wild confusion, surrendering their shrieking children, their weeping wives, their rich possessions, without a single sword-stroke; and these men are, or were, Germans! It would be no wonder if Justinian should now try at once to liberate Italy and Spain from the Goths.