The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER XIX

  AT BAY

  It was not in Esca's nature to be within hearing of shrewd blows and yetabstain from taking part in the fray. His recent sentiments had indeedundergone a change that would produce timely fruit; and neither the wordsof the preacher in the Esquiline, nor the example of Calchas, nor thesweet influence of Mariamne, had been without their effect. But it wasengrained in his very character to love the stir and tumult of a fight.From a boy his blood leaped and tingled at the clash of steel. His was thecourage which is scarcely exercised in the tide of personal conflict, andmust be proved rather in endurance than in action--so naturally does itforce itself to the front when men are dealing blow for blow. His youth,too, had been spent in warfare, and in that most ennobling of all warfarewhich defends home from the aggression of an invader. He had long agolearned to love danger for its own sake, and now he experienced besides amorbid desire to have his hand on the tribune's throat, so he felt thepoint and tried the shaft of his javelin with a thrill of savage joy,while, guided by the sounds of combat he hurried along the corridor tojoin the remnant of the faithful German guard. Not a score of them wereleft, and of these scarce one but bled from some grievous wound. Theirwhite garments were stained with crimson, their gaudy golden armour washacked and dinted, their strength was nearly spent, and every hope ofsafety gone; but their courage was still unquenched, and as man after manwent down, the survivors closed in and fought on, striking desperatelywith their faces to the foe. The tribune and his chosen band, supported bya numerous body of inferior gladiators, were pressing them sore. Placidus,an expert swordsman, and in no way wanting physical courage, wasconspicuous in the front. Hippias alone seemed to vie with the tribune inreckless daring, though Hirpinus, Eumolpus, Lutorius, and the others, wereall earning their wages with scrupulous fidelity, and bearing themselvesaccording to custom, as if fighting were the one business of their lives.

  When Esca reached the scene of conflict the tribune had just closed with agigantic adversary. For a minute they reeled in the death-grapple, thenparted as suddenly as they met, the German falling backward with a groan,the tribune's blade as he brandished it aloft dripping with blood to thevery hilt.

  "_Euge!_" shouted Hippias, who was at his side, parrying at the samemoment, with consummate address, a sweeping sword-cut dealt at him fromthe dead man's comrade. "That was prettily done, tribune, and like anartist!"

  Esca, catching sight of his enemy's hated face, dashed in with the boundof a tiger, and taking him unawares, delivered at him so fierce and rapida thrust as would have settled accounts between them, had Placiduspossessed no other means of defence than his own skilful swordsmanship;but the fencing-master, whose eye seemed to take in all the combatants atonce, cut through the curved shaft of the Briton's weapon with one turn ofhis short sword, and its head fell harmless on the floor. His hand was upfor a deadly thrust when Esca found himself felled to the ground by somepowerful fist, while a ponderous form holding him down with its wholeweight, made it impossible for him to rise.

  "Keep quiet, lad," whispered a friendly voice in his ear; "I was forced tostrike hard to get thee down in time. Faith! the master gives shortwarning with his thrusts. Here thou'rt safe, and here I'll take care thoushalt remain till the tide has rolled over us, and I can pass thee outunseen. Keep quiet! I tell thee, lest I have to strike thee senseless forthine own good."

  In vain the Briton struggled to regain his feet; Hirpinus kept him down bymain force. No sooner had the gladiator caught sight of his friend, thanhe resolved to save him from the fate which too surely threatened all whowere found in the palace, and with characteristic promptitude, used theonly means at his disposal for the fulfilment of his object. A moment'sreflection satisfied Esca of his old comrade's good faith. Life is sweet,and with the hope of its preservation came back the thought of Mariamne.He lay still for a few minutes, and by that time the tide of fight hadrolled on, and they were left alone. Hirpinus rose first with a joviallaugh.

  "Why, you went down, man," said he, "like an ox at an altar. I would haveheld my hand a little--in faith I would--had there been time. Well, I musthelp thee up, I suppose, seeing that I put thee down. Take my advice, lad,get outside as quick as thou canst. Keep the first turning to the right ofthe great gate, stick to the darkest part of the gardens, and run for thylife!"

  So speaking, the gladiator helped Esca to his feet, and pointed down thecorridor where the way was now clear. The Briton would have made one moreeffort to save the Emperor, but Hirpinus interposed his burly form, andfinding his friend so refractory, half-led, half-pushed him to the door ofthe palace. Here he bade him farewell, looking wistfully out into thenight, as though he would fain accompany him.

  "I have little taste for the job here, and that's the truth," said he, inthe tone of a man who has been unfairly deprived of some expectedpleasure. "The Germans made a pretty good stand for a time, but I thoughtthere were more of them, and that the fight would have lasted twice aslong. Good luck go with thee, lad; I shall perhaps never see thee again.Well, well, it can't be helped. I have been bought and paid for, and mustgo back to my work."

  So, while Esca, hopeless of doing any more good, went his way into thegardens, Hirpinus re-entered the palace to follow his comrades, and assistin the search for the Emperor. He was somewhat surprised to hear loudshouts of laughter echoing from the end of the corridor. Hastening on tolearn the cause of such strangely-timed mirth, he came upon Rufus lyingacross the prostrate body of a German, and trying hard to stanch the bloodthat welled from a fatal gash inflicted by his dead enemy, ere he wentdown. Hirpinus raised his friend's head, and knew it was all over.

  "I have got it," said Rufus, in a faint voice; "my foot slipped and theclumsy barbarian lunged in over my guard. Farewell, old comrade! Bid thewife keep heart. There is a home for her at Picenum, and--the boys--keepthem out of the Family. When you close with these Germans--disengage--athalf distance, and turn your wrist down with the--old--thrust, so as to"--

  Weaker and weaker came the gladiator's last syllables, his head sank, hisjaw dropped, and Hirpinus, turning for a farewell look at the comrade withwhom he had trained, and toiled, and drank, and fought, for half a scoreof years, dashed his hand angrily to his shaggy eyelashes, for he saw himthrough a mist of tears.

  Another shout of laughter, louder still and nearer, roused him to action.Turning into the room whence it proceeded, he came upon a scene of combat,nearly as ludicrous as the last was pitiful. Surrounded by a circle ofgladiators, roaring out their applause and holding their sides with mirth,two most unwilling adversaries were pitted against each other. Theyseemed, indeed, very loth to come to close quarters, and stood face toface with excessive watchfulness and caution.

  In searching for the Emperor, Placidus and his myrmidons had scouredseveral apartments without success. Finding the palace thus unoccupied,and now in their own hands, the men had commenced loading themselves withvaluables, and prepared to decamp with their plunder, each to his home, ashaving fulfilled their engagement, and earned their reward. But thetribune well knew that if Vitellius survived the night, his own head wouldbe no longer safe on his shoulders, and that it was indispensable to findthe Emperor at all hazards; so gathering a handful of gladiators roundhim, persuading some and threatening others, he instituted a strict searchin one apartment after another, leaving no hole nor corner untried,persuaded that Caesar must be still inside the palace, and consequentlywithin his grasp. He entertained, nevertheless, a lurking mistrust oftreachery roused by the late appearance of Euchenor at supper, which wasrather strengthened than destroyed by the Greek's unwillingness to engagein personal combat with the Germans. Whilst he was able to do so, thetribune had kept a wary eye upon the pugilist, and had indeed preventedhim more than once from slipping out of the conflict altogether. Now thatthe Germans were finally disposed of, and the palace in his power, he keptthe Greek close at hand with less difficulty, jeering him, half in jestand half i
n earnest, on the great care he had taken of his own person inthe fray. Thus, with Euchenor at his side, followed by Hippias, and somehalf-dozen gladiators, the tribune entered the room in which the Emperorhad supped, and from which a door, concealed by a heavy curtain, led intoa dark recess originally intended for a bath. At the foot of this curtain,half-lying, half-sitting, grovelled an obese unwieldy figure, clad inwhite, which moaned and shook and rocked itself to and fro, in a paroxysmof abject fear. The tribune leapt forward with a gleam of diabolicaltriumph in his eyes. The next instant his face fell, as the figure,looking up, presented the scared features of the bewildered Spado. Buteven in his wrath and disappointment Placidus could indulge himself with abrutal jest.

  "Euchenor," said he, "thou hast hardly been well blooded to-night. Drivethy sword through this carrion, and draw it out of our way."

  The Greek was only averse to cruelty when it involved personal danger. Herushed in willingly enough, his blade up, and his eyes glaring like atiger's; but the action roused whatever was left of manhood in the victim,and Spado sprang to his feet with the desperate courage of one who has noescape left. Close at his hand lay a Parthian bow, one of the manycuriosities in arms that were scattered about the room, together with asandal-wood quiver of puny painted arrows.

  "Their points are poisoned," he shouted; "and a touch is death!"

  "'Their points are poisoned', he shouted"]

  Then he drew the bow to its full compass, and glared about him like somehunted beast brought to bay. Euchenor, checked in his spring, stood rigidas if turned to stone. His beautiful form indeed, motionless in thatlifelike attitude, would have been a fit study for one of his owncountry's sculptors; but the surrounding gladiators, influenced only bythe ludicrous points of the situation, laughed till their sides shook, atthe two cowards thus confronting each other.

  "To him, Euchenor!" said they, with the voice and action by which a manencourages his dog at its prey. "To him, lad! Here's old Hirpinus come toback thee. He always voted thee a cur. Show him some of thy mettle now!"

  Goaded by their taunts, Euchenor made a rapid feint, and crouched foranother dash. Terrified and confused, the eunuch let the bowstring escapefrom his nerveless fingers, and the light gaudy arrow, grazing the Greek'sarm and scarcely drawing blood, fell, as it seemed, harmless to the floorbetween his feet. Again there was a loud shout of derision, for Euchenor,dropping his weapon, applied this trifling scratch to his mouth; ere thelaugh subsided, however, the Greek's face contracted and turned pale. Witha wild yell he sprang bolt upright, raising his arms above his head, andfell forward on his breast, dead.

  The gladiators leaping in, passed half a dozen swords through the eunuch'sbody, almost ere their comrade touched the floor. Then Lutorius andEumolpus tearing down the curtain disappeared in the dark recess behind.There was an exclamation of surprise, a cry for mercy, a scuffling offeet, the fall of some heavy piece of furniture, and the two emergedagain, dragging between them, pale and gasping, a bloated and infirm oldman.

  "Caesar is fled!" said he, looking wildly round. "You seek Caesar?" thenperceiving the dark smile on the tribune's face, and abandoning all hopeof disguise, he folded his arms with a certain dignity that his coarsegarments and disordered state could not wholly neutralise, and added--

  "I am Caesar! Strike! since there is no mercy and no escape!"

  The tribune paused an instant and pondered. Already the dawn was stealingthrough the palace, and the dead upturned face of Spado looked grey andghastly in the pale cold light. Master of the situation, he did butdeliberate whether he should slay Caesar with his own hand, thus biddinghigh for the gratitude of his successor, or whether, by delivering himover to an infuriated soldiery, who would surely massacre him on the spot,he should make his death appear an act of popular justice, in thefurtherance of which he was himself a mere dutiful instrument. A fewmoments' reflection on the character of Vespasian, decided him to pursuethe latter course. He turned to the gladiators, and bade them secure theirprisoner.

  Loud shouts and the tramp of many thousand armed feet announced that thedisaffected legions were converging on the palace, and had already filledits courtyard with masses of disciplined men, ranged under their eagles inall the imposing precision and the glittering pomp of war. The increasingdaylight showed their serried files, extending far beyond the gate, overthe spacious gardens of the palace, and the cold morning breeze unfurled abanner here and there, on which were already emblazoned the initials ofthe new emperor, "Titus Flavius Vespasian Caesar." As Vitellius with hishands bound, led between two gladiators, passed out of the gate which atmidnight had been his own, one of these gaudy devices glittered in therising sun before his eyes. Then his whole frame seemed to collapse, andhis head sank upon his breast, for he knew that the bitterness of deathhad indeed come at last.

  But it was no part of the tribune's scheme that his victim's lineamentsshould escape observation. He put his own sword beneath the Emperor'schin, and forced him to hold his head up while the soldiers hooted andreviled, and ridiculed their former lord.

  "Let them see thy face," said the tribune brutally. "Even now thou artstill the most notorious man in Rome."

  Obese in person, lame in gait, pale, bloated, dishevelled, and a captive,there was yet a certain dignity about the fallen emperor, while he drewhimself up, and thus answered his enemy--

  "Thou hast eaten of my bread and drunk from my cup. I have loaded theewith riches and honours. Yesterday I was thine emperor and thy host. To-day I am thy captive and thy victim. But here, in the jaws of death, Itell thee that not to have my life and mine empire back again, would Ichange places with Julius Placidus the tribune!"

  They were the last words he ever spoke, for while they paraded him alongthe Sacred Way, the legions gathered in and struck him down, and hewed himin pieces, casting the fragments of his body into the stream of FatherTiber, stealing calm and noiseless by the walls of Rome. And though thefaithful Galeria collected them for decent interment, few cared to mournthe memory of Vitellius the glutton; for the good and temperate Vespasianreigned in his stead.