The Gladiators. A Tale of Rome and Judæa

by G. J. Whyte-Melville

  CHAPTER XIII

  THE LEGION OF THE LOST

  [Initial N]

  Nerving herself with every consideration that could steel a woman's heart,Mariamne sought her father's gardens by the way she had already come. Theywere deserted now, and the house, at which she could not forbear taking alook that would probably be her last, was still quiet and undisturbed. Shewould fain have seen her father once more, even in his sleep--would fainhave kissed his unconscious brow, and so taken a fancied pardon for thetreason she had resolved to commit--but it was too great a risk to run, andwith a prayer for divine protection and assistance, she bent down to liftthe slab of marble that concealed the secret way. Having been moved solately in the egress of Calchas, it yielded easily to her strength, andshe descended, not without considerable misgivings, a damp, winding stair,that seemed to lead into the bowels of the earth.

  As the stone fell back to its former place, she was enveloped in utterdarkness; and while she groped her way along the slimy arch that roofed-inthe long, mysterious tunnel, she could not forbear shuddering with dreadof what she might encounter, ere she beheld the light of day once more. Itwas horrible to think of the reptiles that might be crawling about herfeet; of the unknown shapes with which, at any moment, she might come incontact; of the chances that might block her in on both sides, and soconsign her, warm and living, to the grave: worst of all, of thepossibility that some demoniac, like him from whom she had so recentlyescaped, might have taken up his abode here, in the strange infatuation ofthe possessed, and that she must assuredly become his prey, without thepossibility of escape.

  Such apprehensions made the way tedious indeed; and it was with no slightfeeling of relief, and no mere formal thanksgiving, that Mariamne caught aglimpse of light stealing through the black, oppressive darkness, thatseemed to take her breath away, and was aware that she had reached theother extremity of the passage at last. A few armfuls of brushwood,skilfully disposed, concealed its egress. These had been replaced byCalchas, in his late visit to the Roman camp, and Mariamne, peeringthrough, could see without being seen, while she considered what step sheshould take next.

  She was somewhat uneasy, nevertheless, to observe that a Roman sentinelwas posted within twenty paces; she could hear the clank of his armourevery time he stirred; she could even trace the burnished plumage of theeagle on the crest of his helmet. It was impossible to emerge from herhiding-place without passing him; and short as his beat might be, heseemed indisposed to avail himself of it by walking to and fro. In thebright moonlight there was no chance of slipping by unseen, and she lookedin vain for a coming cloud on the midnight sky. He would not even turn hishead away from the city, on which his gaze was fastened; and she watchedhim with a sort of dreary fascination, pondering what was best to be done.

  Even in her extremity she could not but remark the grace of his attitude,and the beautiful outline of his limbs, as he leaned wearily on his spear.His arms and accoutrements, too, betrayed more splendour than seemedsuitable to a mere private soldier, while his mantle was of rich scarlet,looped up and fastened at the shoulder with a clasp of gold. Such detailsshe took in mechanically and unconsciously, even as she perceived that, atintervals, he raised his hand to his eyes, like one who wipes awayunbidden tears. Soon she summoned her presence of mind, and watched himeagerly, for he stretched his arms towards Jerusalem with a pitiful,yearning gesture, and, bowing wearily, leant his crested head upon botharms, resting them against the spear.

  'she walked boldly up to him']

  It was her opportunity, and she seized it; but at the first movement shemade the sentinel's attention was aroused, and she knew she wasdiscovered, for he challenged immediately. Even then, Mariamne could notbut observe that his voice was unsteady, and the spear he levelledtrembled like an aspen in his grasp. She thought it wisest to make noattempt at deception, but walking boldly up to him, implored his safe-conduct, and besought him to take her to the tent of the commander atonce. The sentinel seemed uncertain how to act, and showed, indeed, butlittle of that military promptitude and decision for which the Roman armywas so distinguished. After a pause, he answered--and the soft tones,musical even in their trouble, that rang in Mariamne's ears, wereunquestionably those of a woman--a woman, too, whose instincts of jealousyhad recognised her even before she spoke.

  "You are the girl I saw in the amphitheatre," she said, laying a whitehand, which trembled violently, on the arm of the Jewess. "You werewatching him that day, when he was down in the sand beneath the net. Iknow you, I say! I marked you turned pale when the tribune's arm was up tostrike. You loved him then. You love him now! Do not deny it, girl! lest Idrive this spear through your body, or send you to the guard to be treatedlike a spy taken captive in the act. You look pale, too, and wretched,"she added, suddenly relenting. "Why are you here? Why have you left himbehind the walls alone? I would not have deserted you in your need, Esca,my lost Esca!"

  Mariamne shivered when she heard the beloved name pronounced in such fondaccents by another's lips. Womanlike, she had not been without suspicionsfrom the first, that her lover had gained the affections of some nobleRoman lady--suspicions which were confirmed by his own admission toherself, accompanied by many a sweet assurance of fidelity and devotion;but yet it galled her even now, at this moment of supreme peril, to feelthe old wound thus probed by the very hand that dealt it; and, moreover,through all her anxiety and astonishment, rose a bitter and painfulconviction of the surprising beauty possessed by this shameless woman,clad thus inexplicably in the garb of a Roman soldier. Nevertheless, theJewish maiden was true as steel. Like that mother of her nation who soreadily gave up all claim to her own flesh and blood, to preserve it fromdismemberment under the award of the wisest and greatest of kings, shewould have saved her cherished Briton at any sacrifice, even that of herown constant and unfathomable love. She knelt down before the sentinel,and clasped the scarlet mantle in both hands.

  "I will not ask you what or who you are," she said; "I am in your power,and at your mercy. I rejoice that it is so. But you will help me, will younot? You will use all your beauty and all your influence to save himwhom--whom we both love?"

  She hesitated while she spoke the last sentence. It was as if she gave himup voluntarily, when she thus acknowledged another's share. But his verylife was at stake; and what was her sore heart, her paltry jealousy, tostand in the way at such a moment as this? The other looked scornfullydown on the kneeling girl.

  "You, too, seem to have suffered," said the sentinel. "It is true then,all I have heard of the desolation and misery within the walls? But boastnot of your sorrows; think not you alone are to be pitied. There are wearyheads and aching hearts here in the leaguer, as yonder in the town. Tellme the truth, girl! What of Esca? You know him. You come from him evennow. Where is he, and how fares it with him?"

  "Bound in the Outer Court of the Temple!" gasped Mariamne, "and condemnedto die with the first light of to-morrow's sun!"

  His fate seemed more terrible and more certain, now that she had forcedherself to put it into words. The Roman soldier's face turned deadly pale.The golden-crested helmet, laid aside for air, released a shower of richbrown curls, that fell over the ivory neck, and the smooth shoulders, andthe white bosom panting beneath its breastplate. There could be no attemptat concealment now. Mariamne was obliged to confess that, even in her maleattire, the woman whom she so feared, yet whom she must trust implicitly,was as beautiful as she seemed to be reckless and unsexed.

  They were a lawless and a desperate band, that body of gladiators whichHippias had brought with him to the siege of Jerusalem. None of them butwere deeply stained with blood; most of them were branded with crime; allwere hopeless of good, fearless and defiant of evil. In many a venturousassault, in many a hand-to-hand encounter, fought out with enemies asfierce and almost as skilful as themselves, they had earned their ominoustitle; and the very legionaries, though they sneered at their d
iscipline,and denied their efficiency in long-protracted warfare, could not butadmit that to head a column of attack, to run a battering-ram under thevery ramparts of a citadel, to dash in with a mad cheer over the shatteredruins of a breach, or to carry out any other hot and desperate service,there were no soldiers in the army like the Legion of the Lost. They haddwindled away, indeed, sadly from slaughter and disease; yet there werestill some five or six hundred left, and this remnant consisted of thestrongest and staunchest in the band. They still constituted a separatelegion, nor would it have been judicious to incorporate them with anyother force, which, indeed, might have been as unwilling to receive themas they could be to enrol themselves in its ranks; and they performed thesame duties, and made it their pride to guard the same posts they hadformerly watched when thrice their present strength. Under thesecircumstances a fresh draft would have been highly acceptable to theLegion of the Lost; and in their daily increasing want of men, even asingle recruit was not to be despised. Occasionally one of the Syrianauxiliaries, or a member of any of the irregular forces attached to theRoman army, who had greatly distinguished himself by his daring, wasadmitted into their band, and these additions became less rare as theoriginal number decreased day by day.

  An appeal to the good-nature of old Hirpinus, backed by a heavy bribe toone of his centurions, ensured Valeria's enrolment into this wild,disorderly, and dangerous force; nor in their present lax state ofdiscipline, with the prospect of an immediate assault, had she much todread from the curiosity of her new comrades. Even in a Roman camp, moneywould purchase wine, and wine would purchase everything else. Valeria haddonned in earnest the arms she had often before borne for sport. "Hippiastaught me to use them," she thought, with bitter, morbid exultation; "heshall see to-morrow how I have profited by his lessons!" Then she resolvedto feed her fancy by gazing at the walls of Jerusalem; and she had littledifficulty in persuading a comrade to whom she brought a jar of strongSyrian wine, that he had better suffer her to relieve him for the lasthour or two of his watch.

  The Amazons of old, with a courage we might look for in vain amongst theother sex, were accustomed to amputate their right breast that it mightnot hinder the bowstring when they drew the arrow to its head. Did theynever feel, after the shapely bosom was thus mutilated and defaced, athrob of anguish, or a weight of dull dead pain where the flesh was nowscarred, and hardened, and cicatrised--nay, something worse than painbeneath the wound, when they beheld a mother nursing a sucking-child?Valeria, too, had resolved, so to speak, that she would cut the very heartfrom out of her breast--that she would never feel as a woman feels again.She knew she was miserable, degraded, desperate--she believed she couldbear it nobly now, because she was turned to stone. Yet, as she leaned onher spear in the moonlight, and gazed on the city which contained theprize she had so coveted and lost, she was compelled to acknowledge thatthe fibres of that heart she had thought to tear out and cast away,retained their feelings still. For all that was come and gone, she lovedhim, oh! so dearly, yet; and the eyes of the lost, maddened, desperatewoman filled with tears of as deep and unselfish affection as could havebeen shed by Mariamne herself in her pure and stainless youth.

  Valeria, as Hippias had learned by painful experience, was resolute forgood and evil. It was this decision of character, joined to the impulsivedisposition which springs from an undisciplined life, that had given himhis prey. But it was this that thwarted all the efforts he made to obtainthe ascendency over her which generally follows such a link as theirs; andit was this, too, that ere long caused her to tear the link asunderwithout a moment's apprehension or remorse. With all his energy and habitsof command, the gladiator found he could not control the proud Roman lady,who in a moment of caprice had bowed her head to the very dust for thesake of following him. He could neither intimidate her into obedience, norcrush her into despair, though he tried many a haughty threat, and many anunmanly taunt at her shame. But all in vain; and as he would not yield aninch in their disputes, there was but little peace in the tent of thebrave leader who ruled so sternly over the Legion of the Lost. The pair,indeed, went through the usual phases that accompany such bonds as thosethey chose to wear; but the changes were more rapid than common, as mightwell be expected, when their folly had not even the excuse of trueaffection on both sides. Valeria indeed tired first; for as far as thegladiator was capable of loving anything but his profession, he loved her,and this perhaps only embittered the guilty cup that was alreadysufficiently unpalatable to both. Weariness, as usual, followed fast onthe heels of satiety, to be succeeded by irritation, discontent, anddislike; then came rude words, angry gestures, and overt aggression fromthe man, met by the woman with trifling provocations, mute defiance, andsullen scorn. To love another, too, so hopelessly and so dearly, madeValeria's lot even more difficult to bear, rendering her fretful,intolerant, and inaccessible to all efforts at reconciliation. Thus thebreach widened hour by hour; and on the day when Hippias returned to histent from the council of war before which Calchas had been brought,Valeria quitted it, vowing never to return. She had but one object leftfor which to live. Maddened by shame, infuriated by the insults of thegladiator, her great love yet surged up in her heart with an irresistibletide; and she resolved that she would see Esca once more, ay, though thewhole Jewish army stood with levelled spears between them. After that, shecared not if she died on the spot at his feet!

  To get within the works was indeed no easy matter; and so close a watchwas kept by the Romans on all movements between the lines of the hostileforces, now in such dangerous proximity, that it was impossible to escapefrom the camp of Titus and join the enemy behind the wall, though theJews, notwithstanding the vigilance of their countrymen, were trooping tothe besiegers' camp by scores, to implore the protection of the conqueror,and throw themselves on his well-known clemency and moderation.

  Valeria, then, had taken the desperate resolution of entering the citywith the assault on the morrow. For this purpose she had adopted the dressand array of the Lost Legion. She would at least, she thought in herdespair, be as forward as any of those reckless combatants. She would, atleast, see Esca once more. If he met her under shield, not knowing her,and hurled her to the ground, the arm that smote her would be that of herglorious and beloved Briton. There was a wild, sweet sadness in thethought that she might perhaps die at last by his hand. Full of suchmorbid fancies--her imagination over-excited, her courage kindled, hernerves strung to their highest pitch--it brought with it a fearful reactionto learn that even her last consolation might be denied her--that thechance of meeting her lover once more was no longer in her own hands.What! had she undergone all these tortures, submitted to all thisdegradation, for nothing? And was Esca to die after all, and never learnthat she had loved him to the last? She could not have believed it, butfor the calm, hopeless misery that she read in Mariamne's eyes.

  For a while Valeria covered her face and remained silent; then she lookeddown scornfully on the Jewess, who was still on her knees, holding the hemof the Roman lady's garment, and spoke in a cold, contemptuous tone--

  "Bound and condemned to death, and you are here? You must indeed love himvery dearly to leave him at such a time!"

  Mariamne's despair was insensible to the taunt.

  "I am here," said she, "to save him. It is the only chance. Oh, lady, helpme! help me if only for his dear sake!"

  "What would you have me do?" retorted the other impatiently. "Can I pulldown your fortified wall with my naked hands? Can you and I storm therampart at point of spear, and bear him away from the midst of the enemyto share him afterwards between us, as the legionaries share a prey?"--andshe laughed a strange, choking laugh while she spoke.

  "Nay," pleaded the kneeling Jewess, "look not down on me so angrily. Ipray--I implore you only to aid me! Ay! though you slay me afterwards withyour hand if I displease you by word or deed. Listen, noble lady; I canlead the Roman army within the walls; I can bring the soldiers of Titusinto Jerusalem, maniple by maniple, and cohort by cohort, where they
shallsurprise my countrymen and obtain easy possession of the town; and all Iask in return--the price of my shame, the reward of my black treachery--is,that they will rescue the two prisoners bound in the Outer Court of theTemple, and spare their lives for her sake who has sold honour, andcountry, and kindred here to-night!"

  Valeria reflected for a few seconds. The plan promised well; her woman'sintuition read the secret of the other woman's heart. A thousand schemesrose rapidly in her brain; schemes of love, of triumph, of revenge. Was itfeasible? She ran over the position of the wall, the direction from whichMariamne had come, her own knowledge gained from the charts she hadstudied in the tent of Hippias--charts that, obtained partly by treacheryand partly by observation, mapped out every street and terrace inJerusalem--and she thought it was. Of her suppliant's good faith sheentertained no doubt.

  "There is then a secret passage?" she said, preserving still a stern andhaughty manner to mask the anxiety she really felt. "How long is it, andhow many men will it take in abreast?"

  "It cannot be far," answered the Jewess, "since it extends but from thatheap of brushwood to the terrace of my father's house. It might hold threemen abreast. I entreat you take me to Titus, that I may prevail on him toorder the attack ere it be too late. I myself will conduct his soldiersinto the city."

  Valeria's generosity was not proof against her selfishness. Like manyother women, her instincts of possession were strong; and no sooner hadshe grasped the possibility of saving Esca, than the old fierce longing tohave him for her very own returned with redoubled force.

  "That I may rescue the Briton for the Jewess!" she retorted, with a sneer."Do you know to whom you speak? Listen, girl: I, too, have loved thisEsca: loved him with a love to which yours is but as the glimmer on myhelmet compared to the red glare of that watch-fire below the hill--lovedhim as the tigress loves her cubs--nay, sometimes as the tigress loves herprey! Do you think I will save him for another?"

  Mariamne's face was paler than ever now, but her voice was clear, thoughvery low and sad, while she replied--

  "You love him too! I know it, lady, and therefore I ask you to save him.Not for me; oh! not for me! When he is once set free, I will never see himmore: this is your price, is it not? Willingly, heartily I pay it; onlysave him--only save him! You will, lady; will you not? And so you will takeme direct to Titus? See! the middle watch of the night is already nearlypast."

  But Valeria's plotting brain began now to shape its plans; she saw theobstacles in her way were she to conduct the girl at once into thepresence of Titus. Her own disguise would be discovered, and the Romancommander was not likely to permit such a flagrant breach of disciplineand propriety to pass unnoticed. If not punished, she would probably be atleast publicly shamed, and placed under restraint. Moreover, the princemight hesitate to credit Mariamne's story, and suspect the whole schemewas but a plot to lead the attacking party into an ambush. Besides, shewould never yield to the Jewess the credit and the privilege of saving herlover. No: she had a better plan than this. She knew that Titus hadresolved the city should fall on the morrow. She knew the assault wouldtake place at dawn; she would persuade Mariamne to return into the town;she would mark the secret entrance well. When the gladiators advanced tothe attack, she would lead a chosen band by this path into the very heartof the city; she would save Esca at the supreme moment; and surely hisbetter feelings would acknowledge her sovereignty then, when she came tohim as a deliverer and a conqueror, like some fabulous heroine of his ownbarbarian nation. She would revenge on Hippias all the past weary monthsof discord; she would laugh Placidus to scorn with his subtle plans andhis venturous courage, and the skill he boasted in the art of war. Nay,even Licinius himself would be brought to acknowledge her in her triumph,and be forced to confess that, stained, degraded as she was, his kinswomanhad at last proved herself a true scion of their noble line, worthy of thename of Roman! There was a sting, though, in a certain memory thatMariamne's words brought back; their very tone recalled his, when he toohad offered to sacrifice his love that he might save its object--and shethought how different were their hearts to hers. But the pain only goadedher into action, and she raised the still kneeling girl with a kindlygesture, and a reassuring smile.

  "You can trust me to save him," said she; "but it would be unwise todeclare your plan to Titus. He would not believe it, but would simply makeyou a prisoner, and prevent me from fulfilling my object till too late.Show me the secret path, girl; and by all a woman holds most sacred, byall I have most prized, yet lost, I swear to you that the eagles shallshake their wings in the Temple by to-morrow's sunrise; that I will cutEsca's bonds with the very sword that hangs here in my belt! Return theway you came; be careful to avoid observation; and if you see Valeriaagain alive, depend upon her friendship and protection for his sake whomyou and I shall have saved from death before another day be past!"

  So strangely constituted are women, that something almost like a caresspassed between these two, as the one gave and the other received thesolemn pledge; although Mariamne yielded but unwillingly to Valeria'sarguments, and sought the secret way on her return with slow reluctantsteps. But she had no alternative; and the Roman lady's certainty ofsuccess imparted some of her own confidence to the weary and despondingJewess. "At least," thought Mariamne, "if I cannot save him, I can diewith him, and then nothing can separate us any more!" Sad as it was, sheyet felt comforted by the hopeless reflection, while it urged her tohasten to her lover at once.

  There was no time to be lost. As she looked back to the Roman sentinel,once more motionless on his post, and waved her hand with a gesture thatseemed to implore assistance, while it expressed confidence, ere shestooped to remove the brushwood for her return, a peal of Roman trumpetsbroke on the silence, sounding out the call which was termed "cock-crow,"an hour before the dawn.