by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XXI
Hilda followed Verus's retreating figure with a long, long look; atlast, with a slight shake of her beautiful head, she went up to Gelimerand said: "Do not be angry, my King, if I ask a question which nothinggives me the right to utter, except my anxiety for your welfare, andthat of all our people."
"And my love for you, brave sister-in-law," replied Gelimer, gentlystroking her flowing golden hair, and seating himself on the couchagain. "For," he added, smiling, "though you are a wicked pagan andoften cherish--as I well know--secret resentment, nay, animosity,against me, I love you, foolish, impetuous young heart."
She sank down at his feet, on a high, soft cushion covered with leopardskins, while Gibamund paced slowly up and down the spacious hall, oftengazing out through the lofty arched window over the wide sea. No lightwas burning in the apartment; but the full moon, which meanwhile hadrisen above the dark flood and the harbor wall, poured in the fullsplendor of her rays, which, falling on the features of the three noblehuman beings, illumined them with a spectral light.
"I will not," Hilda began, "as Zazo and my Gibamund have repeatedlydone, until you wrathfully forbade it, warn you against this priest,who--"
With neither impatience nor anger, Gelimer interrupted: "Who firstdiscovered the wiles of Pudentius; who revealed to us the treachery ofHilderic; to whom alone I am indebted for my escape from assassinationthat night; who has saved the kingdom of the Vandals from the snare."
Gibamund paused in his walk.
"Yes, it is true. I had almost said, _unfortunately_ true. For I wouldrather have owed it to any other man."
"It is so strikingly true that even our Zazo, who at first accused himharshly to me, could scarcely find any objection to mutter, when I tookthe brilliant man among my councillors and intrusted to him (for he isan expert in letter-writing) the care of the correspondence. And howunweariedly he has toiled since, priest and chancellor at the sametime! I marvel at the number of papers he lays before me every morning;I do not believe he sleeps three hours."
"Men who neither sleep nor fight, drink nor kiss, are unnatural to me,"cried Gibamund, laughing.
"I do not warn," said Hilda, "but I ask"--she laid her hand lightly onthe King's arm--"how does it happen, how is it possible, that you, thewarlike Prince of the Vandals, loved this gloomy Roman, this renegade,better than all who stood nearest to you?"
"There you are mistaken, fair Hilda," smiled the King, stroking herhand.
"Yes," she answered, correcting herself; "doubtless you love Ammatabetter; he is the apple of your eye."
"My father, on his death-bed, confided this brother (he was then only aprattling boy) to my care. I cherished him in my inmost heart, andreared him as though he were my own child," said Gelimer, tenderly. "Itis not love," he went on, "that binds me to Verus. What constrains meto revere in him my guardian spirit on earth, to look up to him withardent gratitude, with blind, credulous trust, is the confidence, nay,the superhuman certainty: yes," here he shuddered slightly, "it is arevelation of God, a miracle."
"A miracle?" Hilda repeated.
"A revelation?" Gibamund asked incredulously, stopping before them.
"Both," replied the King. "Only, to understand it, you must know more,you must know all, you must learn how my mind, my soul, was tossed toand fro by conflicting powers; you must live through with me once moremy wanderings, my perils, and my deliverance. Yes, and you shall, youwho are my nearest and dearest, now and here; who knows when theimpending war will grant us another hour of leisure?
"Even in my earliest childhood, my father told me, I was not likeordinary children; I dreamed, I asked questions beyond my years. Then,it is true, came the happy days of boyhood: arms, arms, and again arms,my only sport, my only labor, my only study. At that time I grew to thepower and the pleasure in the use of weapons--" his eyes flashed in themoonlight.
"Which made you the hero of your people," cried Gibamund.
"But suddenly an end came. By chance the leader of the hundred who wascommanded to execute the order fell sick, and I was next in the list:I, a lad of sixteen, was sent with my troop to witness the terribletortures of Romans, Catholics, who would not abjure their faith, in thecourtyard of this citadel. The shrieks of agony which pierced throughthe thick walls had repeatedly roused the Carthaginians toinsurrection; it was absolutely necessary to guard the dungeons. I hadheard that such things were done; I was told that they were needful;that the Catholics were all traitors to the kingdom, and the rack wasused only to compel them to reveal the secrets of their disloyal plans.But I had never witnessed the scene. Now suddenly I beheld it. The boyof sixteen was himself the commander of the executioners. Horrible!horrible! About a hundred persons, among them women, old men, boys andgirls scarcely as old as I. I commanded a halt. 'By order of the King!'replied the Arian priest. I wanted to rush to the aid of the torturedprisoners. Alas! Verus's whole family were among the victims. I wantedto tear his gray-haired mother from the stake, from the ascendingflames, amid which, in spite of her iron chains, she writhed, shriekingin unutterable agony. My own soldiers held me! 'By order of the King!'they shouted. I struck about me, I foamed, I raged. In vain! I shut myeyes that I might see the terrible scene no longer! But ah--"
The King hesitated and passed his hand across his brow. Then he wenton,--
"My name, in a shrill scream, reached my ear. I involuntarily opened myeyes again and saw, stretched toward me, the naked, fettered, arm ofthe gray-haired woman. 'Curses on you, Gelimer!' she shrieked. 'Curseson you upon earth and in hell! Curses on all you Asdings! Curses on theVandal people and kingdom! God's vengeance for your own and yourfathers' sins shall pursue you from childhood to old age. Curses,curses on you, murderer Gelimer!' And I saw her eyes, horriblydisfigured by suffering and hate, piercing mine. Then I sank down inthe convulsions which, later, often attacked me, and lay gasping underthe burden of the thought: even though I myself am free from sin, thedespairing woman cursed me as she died; she bore the curse to thethrone of God. I must bear the burden of guilt of all our family." Hetrembled, beads of perspiration stood on his brow.
"For God's sake, brother, stop! Your illness might return."
But Gelimer continued: "When I came to my senses, I was no longer ayouth; I was an old man; or crushed, half mad, as you will call it. Ithrew off my sword-belt, helmet, shield, and all my weapons, and--oh,never shall I forget it--that one terrible word alone pressed throughmy poor brain, deadening all else: 'Sin--the curse of sin rests uponme, my family, my people!'
"I sought comfort. I seized the Bible. I had been taught that Godspeaks to us through the oracles of the Sacred Book. With a sharpdagger in my hand I unrolled the passages of Holy Writ. I appealed toGod. 'O Lord, wilt Thou really punish me for the sins of my ancestors?'I struck haphazard with my dagger at the open page; it pierced theverse: 'For I the Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the iniquityof the fathers upon the children unto the third and fourth generation.'
"I almost died of terror. Once more I controlled myself. From thestreet below rose the blast of the Vandal horns; glittering inbrilliant armor, our horsemen were going out to battle with the Moors.That was my joy, my pride. Twice already I myself had mingled in thevictorious conflict. My heart, my courage, my joy in life, revived. Isaid to myself: 'Even though all pleasure is forever dead to me, mypeople, the Vandal kingdom, the hero's duty to live, to fight, to diefor his country, summon me. Is this, too, nothing? Is sin, too, an idlenothing?' Again, in another place, I questioned the word of God. Iclosed the roll, opened it again, and my dagger's point touched thewords: All is vanity!
"Then I sank down in despair. So people and country and heroism, whichour ancestors had fostered and praised as at once the highest duty andthe greatest pleasure,--this, too, is vanity, is sin before the eyes ofthe Lord."
"It is a cruel chance," said Gibamund, wrathfully.
"And it is folly to believe it," cried Hilda. "O Gelimer, thou hero,grandson of Genseric, does not e
very pulsation of your heart give thelie to this gloomy delusion." She sprang up, throwing back her flowinghair and fixing a fiery glance upon him.
"Sometimes, doubtless, fair leader of the Valkyrie," replied Gelimer,smiling. "And especially since--since God saved me by a miracle. Andfear not, granddaughter of Hildebrand, you will have no cause to beashamed of your brother-in-law, the Vandal King, when the tuba ofBelisarius summons us to battle." He raised his noble head, clenchinghis fist.
"Oh, joy to us, my husband," cried Hilda, "that is still the inmostcare of his being--the hero!" And she eagerly pressed her husband'shand.
"Who knows the inmost care of his own being?" Gelimer went on. "At thattime--and for years after--all joy in the pomp and glitter of arms wasover for me. I was so ill! At that second oracle the convulsionsreturned; and later they came very frequently, so that my father wascompelled to yield to my earnest desire, for I was not yet fit formilitary service. I was permitted to enter a monastery of the monks ofour religion as a pupil, and to remain there in the solitude of thedesert. I spent many years within those walls, and during that time Iburned all the war songs which I had written in our language to sing tothe accompaniment of the harp."
"Oh, what a shame!" exclaimed Hilda.
"But a few were preserved by the lips of our soldiers," said Gibamund,consolingly; "for instance,--
"'Grandsons most noble Of ancestors noblest, Ancient blood of the Asdings, Gold-panoplied race Of mighty Genseric, To ye hath descended The Sea-Kings' power.'"
"And the fatal harvest of his sins!" said Gelimer, bowing his headgloomily. He was silent for a time, then he began again,--
"Instead of the Vandal verse, I now composed Latin penitential hymns.My brothers thought that the tortures of the condemned groaned, theflames of hell darted through these trochees. Doubtless there wereflames--those which I had seen consume living human beings. There wasno mortification, no asceticism, which I did not practise to excess. Iraged against my flesh; I hated myself, my sinful soul, my body, whichdragged with it the curse of mortal sin. I fasted, I scourged myself, Iwore the nail-studded belt till it pierced deep wounds. I secretlyinvented fresh tortures, when the abbot forbade the undue infliction ofthe old ones. At the same time I devoured all the books in themonastery and the libraries of Carthage. I persuaded my father to letme go to Alexandria, to Athens, to Constantinople, to hear the teachersthere. I had become more learned, not wiser, when I returned from thoseschools to the monastery in the desert. At last my father summoned mefrom this monastery to his deathbed; he committed to me, as a sacredlegacy, the care of my youngest brother, the child Ammata. I could notselfishly hasten from my father's grave to the desert, as I desired;the care of the child was a human, healthy duty which restored me tothe world. I lived for the darling boy."
"No father could watch over him more tenderly," cried Gibamund.
"At that time I was urged to marry. The King, the whole nation wishedit. The lady belonged to the royal race of the Visigoths, and came tovisit Carthage. A beautiful, noble, brilliant Princess, she charmed myheart and ray eyes. I ruled both, and said, No."
"To live solely for Ammata?" asked Hilda.
"Not that alone. The thought entered my mind," his brow clouded again,"the curse which the old woman had called down upon my head should not,according to those terrible words of Scripture, be transmitted by mefrom generation to generation. I should tremble to see in my children'sfaces the features of their accursed father. So I remained unwedded."
"What a gloomy idea!" Gibamund whispered in the ear of his beautifulwife, as, drawing her tenderly toward him, he kissed her cheek.
"I suppose it was at that time," said Hilda, "that you composed thatdenunciation which condemns all love as sin?"
"Maledictus amor sextus, Maledicta oscula, Sint amplexus maledicti Inferi ligamina."
"It is all untrue," she added smiling, warmly returning her husband'sembrace.
But Gelimer went on: "The result will teach us the truth--on the Day ofJudgment. The care of the boy cured me. I again turned to the practiceof arms; it would soon be necessary to teach my pupil their use. But astill greater aid was the duty--"
"You owed your people and your native land," interrupted Hilda.
"Yes," added Gibamund. "At that time the Moors had proved greatlysuperior to our effeminate troops, and especially our unwarlike King.We were defeated in every battle, and could no longer hold our own inthe open field against the camel-riders. Our frontier was harried yearafter year. Nay, the robbers of the desert grew bold enough topenetrate deep into the heart of the proconsular province, till theymade forays to the very gates of Carthage. Then I was summoned tobecome the shield of my people; I did so gladly. The old love of armswaked anew, and I said to myself: 'No vain, sinful greed for fame urgesyou on.'"
"What? Is heroism called a sin?" cried Hilda. "You were fighting onlyto defend your people."
"Ah, but he found much pleasure in it," replied Gibamund, smiling athis wife. "And he often pursued the Moors farther into the desert, andin following them killed many more with his own hand than theprotection of Carthage would have required."
"May Heaven pardon all that I did beyond what was necessary," saidGelimer, in a troubled tone. "The thought, 'It is a sin,' oftenparalyzed my arm, even in the midst of battle. Often, too, I wasoverwhelmed by the old melancholy, the torturing fear of sin, theconsciousness of guilt, the burden of the curse of the burning woman,the words piercing to the quick: 'All is sin, all is vanity!'
"Then came the day which brought to me the most terribleordeal,--tortures little less than those suffered by the Catholics, theparents and relatives of Verus, and at the same time the decision,rescue, deliverance, through Verus. Yes, as Jesus Christ is my Redeemerin Heaven, this priest became my savior, my redeemer on earth."
"Do not blaspheme," warned Gibamund. "I, unfortunately, am not sodevout a Christian as you; but the Saviour is only like unto, not equalwith, God--"
"You have learned your Arian creed by heart, my dear one," cried Hilda,laughing. "But old Hildebrand said he was neither like nor equal to thegods of our ancestors."
"No, for they are demons," said Gelimer, wrathfully, making the sign ofthe cross.
"Yet I should not like to compare the gloomy Verus with Christ,"replied Gibamund.
"I had felt toward him as you, as Zazo, as almost all did; he did notattract, he rather repelled me. That he--he alone of all his kindred,whose death for their faith he had witnessed, should have adopted thereligion of their executioners! Was it from fear, or really fromconviction? I distrusted him! It displeased me, too, that KingHilderic, the friend of the Byzantines, whose plots against my ownsuccession to the throne I already suspected, so greatly favored him.How greatly I wronged Verus there he has now proved; he--he alone savedme and the Vandal kingdom. Thus he has done visibly what God's signannounced to me in the most terrible moment of my life. Now listen towhat only our Zazo yet knows; I told him, as an answer to his warning.Hear, marvel, and recognize the signs and wonders of God."