by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER LI.
Herculanus was mistaken: Ausonius was not slain. In the attempt to leapfrom one cart to another he had fallen between them and slightly hurthis foot. But Decius and some legionaries of the Twenty-second Cohorthad helped him up again and taken him at once to the Decumanian Gate.Here, meanwhile, the Tribune had quickly made his arrangements,gathering the fugitives arriving singly around a body of his Illyrians,to whom he also entrusted the standard.
"Where is the ala of mailed riders whom I ordered here, forbidding themto dismount? We need them now at the head of the sortie."
"Alas, Tribune, in the turmoil, in the pressure on the gate and thewalls, we all dismounted and fought on foot. Our horses are gone; theydashed down the side streets."
"This is Herculanus's discipline of his men! So--we have no horsemen.Well then, the spears to the front! The wounded in the centre! Here,Ausonius, behind my troop! There. Draw back the bolts; throw the gateopen. We will fight our way through to the ships. Forward! On!"
Then the gate, hitherto so firmly defended, its right wing halfshattered, the left half burned, opened from within, and the Romans,summoning their last strength, led by their able General in person, andstimulated to a final supreme effort by his example and the prospect ofsafety, burst out of the camp. The shock was terrible, and the effectof the unexpected attack upon the Barbarians was very great. All whohad been standing on the narrow strip of ground between the gate andthe ditch were hurled into it. Adalo was not among the number; he hadgone back for a moment to direct the preparation of a bridge of logswhich was to lead directly to the gate; then he intended to have hismen run across with beams to batter the already weakened timbers andbreak it down completely. So he escaped the fall into the ditch, whichSippilo shared, but as in the plunge from the wall, uninjured. The boyclimbed nimbly up the southern side. He had lost the helmet in hisfirst tumble, but held fast to his spear and shield this time too.
For a moment, it is true, it seemed as if the Romans, as soon as theyhad passed through the gate and obtained a view of the lake, woulddisperse again in fresh terror; for meanwhile the attack on the shipsand the camp below had apparently succeeded.
Hitherto the defenders on the walls had waited longingly for Nannienus,and looked in vain over the Barbarians and their flaring pitch torchestoward the lake. But now that they had reached the open country outsidethe camp, they saw a vast conflagration on the shore. Surrounded by thetumult of the battle raging immediately about them, they had beenunable to hear the noise of the conflict which had commenced below halfan hour before; but they now perceived all that Saturninus had longsince concluded by the absence of his brave friend: the fleet itselfwas being most hotly assailed.
"The ships are burning! The camp is in flames! Our last refuge isgone!" With these shouts, many sprang from the closed ranks, fled, andwere instantly overtaken by the Germans and struck down before theircomrades' eyes.
"You see how fugitives fare!" cried Saturninus. "Keep your ranks closedif you want to save your lives. March in close order to the lake, andwe shall save ourselves and our friends."
This was a ray of encouragement, and the whole body followed theirbrave leader, who was the first man to climb up the southern side ofthe ditch. As soon as he reached the top his own name, shouted loudlyfrom the ranks of the Barbarians, fell upon his ear.
"Where is Saturninus, the General of the Romans?" called a voice inLatin.
Brightly illumined by the flames of the burning camp, a leader of theGermans, in the richest armor, pressed forward before his men. Aboar-helmet covered his head; a gray-bearded attendant held before hima long shield on which he caught two well-aimed Roman spears at once.
"Where is Saturninus? I must find him!" repeated the German, springingforward again and felling the nearest Thracian with his battle axe.
"Here," answered the Tribune. "But this is no time to negotiate."
"No, but to die!" shouted Ebarbold, his battle axe crashing upon thehuge curved shield of the Roman. It entered it without injury to thebearer.
The King vainly struggled to draw out the weapon, it remainedmotionless, and already the Roman's short, murderous broad sword wasquivering for the fatal stroke, when the gray-haired shield-bearersprang between them and threw the shield before his master.
But the Norian iron penetrated the boar hide and the wooden frame ofthe shield to the old man's left breast. He fell on his back, bornedown by the weight of the blow.
Meanwhile Ebarbold had dropped the handle of the battle axe, drawn thelong unwieldy sword at his side, and swung it above the proud crest ofthe Roman General's helmet; but before it fell, the short Roman sword,red with the blood of the shield-bearer, pierced his throat and he sankdying by the old man's side. "You--with me--for me!" he could say nomore.
"Did you think I would desert you? The King of the Ebergau must notenter Odin's hall unattended. You shall not enter the door of Valhallaunattended like some man of low degree. We--have--both--kept ourword--and together--with the honor of heroes we will go to Valhalla."
Ebarvin's head sank on the shoulder of his King. Both were silent indeath.
The Illyrian had sprung forward over the bodies of the twoGermans--first hewing off with his sword the handle of the battle axestill sticking in his shield--amid the wild, exulting shouts of hiscountrymen who had witnessed the struggle. But the men of the Ebergauwere dismayed by their leader's fall; they hesitated--stopped--yielded.
"Forward, down to the lake!" shouted the Tribune. "You see they aregiving way." It was a dangerous moment; for, confused by the retreat ofthe Ebergau men, the band next behind them was wavering.