by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER IV
A tall figure appeared in the colonnade leading from the interior ofthe dwelling to the open doorway of the hall.
This man without helmet, breastplate, or sword-belt wore atight-fitting dark-gray robe, destitute of color or ornament. He oftenpaused in his slow advance as if lost in meditation, with hands claspedbehind his back; his head drooped forward a little, as though burdenedby anxious thought. His lofty brow was deeply furrowed; his light-brownhair and beard were thickly sprinkled with gray, which formed a strangecontrast to his otherwise youthful appearance. His eyes were fixedsteadily on the floor,--their color and expression were stillunrecognizable,--and pausing again under the pillared arch of theentrance, he sighed heavily.
"Hail, Gelimer, victorious hero!" cried the young wife, joyously. "Takewhat I have had ready for you ever since your return home was announcedto-day." Seizing a thick laurel wreath lying on the table before her,she eagerly raised it. A slight but expressive wave of the hand stoppedher.
"Wreaths are not suited for the sinner's head," said the new-comer in alow tone, "but ashes, ashes!"
Hilda, hurt and sorrowful, laid down the garland.
"Sinner?" cried her husband, indignantly. "Why, yes; so are we all--inthe eyes of the saints. But you less than others. Are we never torejoice?"
"Let those rejoice who can!"
"Oh, brother, you too can rejoice. When the hero spirit comes, when thewhirl of battle surrounds you, with loud shouts (I heard it myself andmy heart exulted in your delight), you dashed before us all into thethickest throng of the Moorish riders. And you cried aloud from sheerjoy when you tore the banner from the hand of the fallen bearer; youhad ridden him down by the mere shock of your charger's rush."
"Ay, that was indeed beautiful!" cried Gelimer, suddenly lifting hishead, while a pair of large brown eyes flashed from under long darklashes. "Isn't the cream stallion superb? He overthrows everything. Hebears victory."
"Ay, when he bears Gelimer!" exclaimed a clear voice, and aboy--scarcely beyond childhood, for the first down was appearing on hisdelicate rosy cheeks--a boy strongly resembling Gibamund and Gelimerglided across the threshold and rushed with outstretched arms towardthe hero.
"Oh, brother, how I love you! And how I envy you! But on the nextpursuit of the Moors you must take me with you, or I will go againstyour will." And he threw both arms around his brother's toweringfigure.
"Ammata, my darling, my heart's treasure," cried Gelimer, tenderly,stroking the lad's long golden locks with a loving touch, "I havebrought you from the booty a little milk-white horse as swift as thewind. I thought of you the instant it was led before me. And you, fairsister-in-law, forgive me. I was unkind when I came in; I was foil ofheavy cares. For I came--"
"From the King," cried a deep voice from the corridor, and a man infull armor rushed in, whose strong resemblance to the others marked himas the fourth brother. Features of noble mould, a sharp but finelymodelled nose, broad brow, and yellow, fiery eyes set almost too deeplybeneath arched brows were peculiar to all these royal Asdings, thedescendants of the sun-god Frey.
Gelimer's glance alone was usually subdued as if veiled, dreamy as iflost in uncertainty; but when it suddenly flashed with enthusiasm orwrath its mighty glow was startling; and the narrow oval of the face,which in all was far removed from roundness, in Gelimer seemed almosttoo thin.
The man who had just entered was somewhat shorter than the latter, butmuch broader-chested and larger-limbed. His head, surrounded withshort, close-curling brown hair, rested on a strong neck; the cheekswere reddened by health and robust vitality, and now by fierce anger.Although only a year younger than Gelimer, he seemed still a fieryyouth beside his prematurely aged brother. In furious indignation heflung the heavy helmet, from which the crooked horns of the Africanbull buffalo threatened, upon the table, making the wine splash overthe glasses.
"From Hilderic," he repeated, "the most ungrateful of human beings!What was the hero's reward for the new victory? Suspicion! Fearof rousing jealousy in Constantinople! The coward! My beautifulsister-in-law, you have more courage in your little finger than thisKing of the Vandals in his heart and his sword-hand. Give me a cup ofwine to wash down my rage."
Hilda quickly sprang up, filled the goblet, and offered it to him."Drink, brave Zazo! Hail to you and all heroes, and--"
"To hell with Hilderic!" cried the furious soldier, draining the beakerat a single draught.
"Hush, brother! What sacrilege!" exclaimed Gelimer, with a cloudedbrow.
"Well, for aught I care, to heaven with him! He'll suit that far betterthan the throne of the sea-king Genseric."
"There you give him high praise," said Gelimer.
"I don't mean it. As I stood there while he questioned you soungraciously, I could have--But reviling him is useless. Something mustbe done. I remained at home this time for a good reason: it was hardenough for me to let you go forth to victory alone! But I secretly kepta sharp watch on this fox in the purple, and have discovered histricks. Send away this pair of wedded lovers, I think they have much tosay to each other alone; the child Ammata, too; and listen to myreport, my suspicion, my accusation: not only against the King, butothers also."
Gibamund threw his arm tenderly around his slender wife, and the boyran out of the hall in front of them.