by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER VII
The flying Vandals, leaving Carthage far on the right, had struck intothe road which at Decimum turns toward the northwest, leading toNumidia.
In this direction also the numerous women and children, who had leftCarthage many days before with the army, had gone from the camp on themorning of the day before, under safe escort, to the little village ofCastra Vetera, half a day's march from the battlefield. Here, about twohours before midnight, they met the fugitives from Decimum; the pursuithad ceased with the closing in of darkness. The main body of troops layaround the hamlet in the open air; the few tents brought by the womenfrom the other camp, and the huts in the village, were used to shelterthe many wounded and the principal leaders of the army. In one of thesetents, stretched on coverlets and pillows, was Gibamund; Hilda kneltbeside him, putting a fresh bandage on his foot. As soon as she hadfinished, she turned to Gundomar, who was sitting on the other side ofthe narrow space with his head propped on his hand. Blood was tricklingthrough his yellow locks. The Princess carefully examined the wound,"It is not mortal," she said. "Is the pain severe?"
"Only slight," replied the Gunding, clenching his teeth. "Where is theKing?"
"In the little chapel with Verus. He is praying."
The words fell harshly from her lips.
"And my brother?" asked Gundomar. "How is his shoulder?"
"I cut the arrow-head out. He is doing well; he is in command of theguards. But the King, too, is wounded."
"What?" asked both the men, in startled tones. "He said nothing of it."
"He is ashamed--for his people. No foe; flying Vandals whom he stoppedand tried to turn hacked his arm with their daggers."
"Dogs," cried Gundomar, grinding his teeth; but Gibamund sighed.
"Gundobad, who witnessed it, told me; I examined the arm; there is nodanger."
"And Eugenia?" he asked after a pause.
"She is lying in the next house as if stupefied. When she heard of herhusband's death, she cried: 'To him! Into his grave! Sigrun--' (I oncetold her the legend of Helgi) and tried to rush madly away. But shesank fainting in my arms. Even after she had recovered her senses, shelay on the couch as if utterly crushed. 'To him! Sigrun--into hisgrave!--I am coming, Thrasaric!' was all that she would answer to myquestions. She tried to rise to obtain more news, but could not, and Isternly forbade her to attempt it again. I will tell her cautiously allthat it is well for her to know--no more. But speak, Gundomar, if youcan; I know all the rest--except how Ammata, how Thrasaric--"
"Presently," said the Gunding. "Another drink of water. And your wound,Gibamund?"
"It is nothing," replied the Prince, bitterly; "I did not reach theenemy at all. I sent messenger after messenger to Thrasaric, as I didnot receive the promised report that he was leaving Decimum. Not onereturned; all fell into the hands of the foe. No message came fromThrasaric. The time appointed by the King when I was to make the attackhad arrived; in obedience to the order I set forth, though perfectlyaware of the superior strength of the enemy, and though the main bodyof the troops under Thrasaric had not come. When we were within anarrow-shot, the horsemen, the Huns, dashed to the right and left, andwe saw behind them the Thracian infantry, seven ranks deep, whoreceived us with a hail of arrows. They aimed at the horses; mine, theforemost, and all in the front rank instantly fell. Your brave brotherin the second rank, himself wounded by a shaft, lifted me with greatdifficulty on his own charger--I could not stand--and rescued me. TheHuns now bore down upon us from both flanks; the Thracians pressedforward from the front with levelled spears. Not a hundred of my twothousand men are still alive." He groaned in anguish.
"But tell me how came Ammata,--against Gelimer's command, in spite ofThrasaric's guard--?" asked Hilda.
"It happened in this way," said the Gunding, pressing his hand to theaching wound in his head. "We had put the boy, unarmed, in the littleCatholic basilica at Decimum, with the hostages from Carthage, amongthem young Publius Pudentius."
"Hilderic and Euages too?"
"No. Verus had them taken to the second camp near Bulla. Bleda, thecaptured Hun, had been tied with a rope outside to the bronze rings ofthe church doors; he lay on the upper step. On the square, in front ofthe little church, were about twenty of our horsemen. Many, byThrasaric's command,--he rode repeatedly across the square, gazingwatchfully in every direction,--had dismounted. Thrusting their spearsinto the sand beside their horses, they lay flat on the low roofs ofthe surrounding houses looking toward the southwest to see theadvancing foe. I sat on horseback by the open window of the basilica.From the corner one can see straight to the entrance of the main roadfrom Decimum, where Astarte's--formerly Modigisel's--villa stands. So Iheard every word that was spoken in the basilica. Two boyish voiceswere disputing vehemently.
"'What?' cried one. 'Is this the loudly vaunted heroism of the Vandals?You are placed here, Ammata, in the asylum of the church of themuch-tortured Catholics? Do you seek shelter here?' 'The order of theKing,' replied Ammata, choking with rage. 'Ah,' sneered the other; itwas Pudentius--I now recognized the tones--'I would not be commanded todo that by king or emperor. I am chained hand and foot, or I would havebeen outside long ago, fighting with the Romans.' 'The order of theKing, I tell you.' 'Order of cowardice. Ha, if _I_ were a member of theroyal house for whose throne men were fighting, nothing would keep mein a church, while--Hark! that is the tuba. It is proclaiming a Romanvictory.'
"I heard no more; the Roman trumpets were blaring outside of Decimum."
Just at that moment the folds of the tent were pushed softly apart. Apale face, two large dark eyes, gazed in, unseen by any one.
"At the same instant," continued the Gunding, "a figure sprang from thevery high window of the basilica,--I don't yet understand how the boyclimbed up to it,--ran past me, swung himself on the horse of one ofour troopers, tore the spear from the ground beside it, and with theexulting shout, 'Vandals! Vandals!' dashed down the street to meet theByzantines.
"'Ammata! Ammata! Halt!' Thrasaric called after him. But he was alreadyfar away. 'Follow him! Gundomar! Follow him! Save the boy!' criedThrasaric, rushing past me.
"I followed; our men--a slender little band--did the same. 'Too soon!Much too soon!' I exclaimed, as I overtook Thrasaric.
"'The King commanded me to protect the lad!'
"It was impossible to stop him; I followed. We had already reached thenarrow southern entrance of Decimum. On the right was Astarte's villa,on the left the high stone wall of a granary. Ammata, without helmet,breastplate, or shield, with only the spear in his hand, was facing awhole troop of mounted lancers, who stared in amazement at the mad boy.
"'Back, Ammata! Fly, I will cover the entrance here,' shoutedThrasaric.
"'I will not fly! I am a grandson of Genseric,' was the lad's answer.
"'Then we will die here together. Here is my shield.'
"It was high time. Already the lances of the Byzantines were hurtlingat us. Our three horses fell. We all sprang up unhurt. A spear struckthe shield which Thrasaric had forced upon the boy, penetrating thehammer on it. A dozen of our men had now reached us. Six sprang fromtheir horses, levelling their lances. We were enough to block thenarrow entrance. The Byzantines dashed upon us; only three horses couldcome abreast. We three killed two horses and one man. Our foes wereobliged to remove the dead animals, our three and the fourth, to gainspace. While doing this Ammata sprang forward and struck down anotherByzantine. As he leaped back an arrow grazed his neck; the blood burstforth; the boy laughed. Again the foes dashed forward. Again two fell.But Ammata was obliged to drop the hammer shield, there were now somany spears sticking in it, and Thrasaric received a lance-thrust inhis shieldless left arm. Behind the Byzantines we now heard Germanhorns; the sound was like the blast announcing the approach of ourVandal horsemen. 'Gibamund, or the King!' our men shouted. 'We aresaved.'
"But we were lost. They were Herulians in the Emperor's pay. Theirleader, a tall figure with eagle wings on h
is helmet, instantly assumedcommand of all the forces. He ordered several men to dismount and climbthe wall of the granary at his right; others trotted toward the left,to ride around the villa, and at the same time they overwhelmed us witha shower of spears. The boar's helm flew from my head, two lances hadstruck it at the same moment; a third now hit my skull and stretched meon the ground. At that moment, when our eyes were all fixed upon theenemy in front, a man on foot forced his way through our horsemen fromthe basilica behind. I heard a hoarse cry: 'Wait, boy!' and saw theflash of a sword. Ammata fell forward on his knees.
"It was Bleda, the captive Hun. The torn rope still dragged from hisankle. He had wrenched himself free and seized a weapon; before hecould draw the sword from the boy's back Thrasaric's spear pierced himthrough and through. But the noble had forgotten the foes in front, andno longer struck the flying lances aside. Two spears pierced him atonce; he received a deep wound in the thigh and staggered against thewall of the villa.
"A narrow door close beside him opened, and on the threshold stoodAstarte. 'Come, my beloved, I will save you,' she said, seizing hisarm. 'A secret passage from my cellar--'
"But Thrasaric silently shook her off and threw himself before thekneeling boy. For now Herulians and Byzantines, on foot and onhorseback, were pressing forward in dense throngs. The door closed.
"I tried to rise, but could not; so, unable to aid, helpless myself,but covered by a dead horse behind which I had fallen, I saw the end. Iwill make the story brief. So long as he could move an arm, thefaithful giant protected the boy with sword and spear; finally, whenthe spear-head was hacked off, the sword broken, he sheltered the boywith his own body. I saw how he spread the huge bearskin over him as ashield, and clasped both arms around the child's breast.
"'Surrender, brave warrior,' cried the leader of the Herulians. ButThrasaric--hark! What was that?"
"A groan? Yonder! Does your foot ache, my Gibamund?"
"I made no sound. It was probably a night-bird--outside--before thetent."
"But Thrasaric shook his huge head and hurled his sword-hilt into theface of the nearest Byzantine, who fell, shrieking. Then so many lancesflew at the same instant that Ammata sank lifeless on the ground.Thrasaric did not fall, but stood bending forward, his arms hangingloosely. The Herulian leader went close to him. 'In truth,' he said,'never have I seen anything like this. The man is dead; but he cannotfall, so many spears, with handles resting on the ground, are fixed inhis breast.' He gently drew out several; the strong noble slid downbeside Ammata.
"Our men had fled as soon as they saw us both fall. Past me--I lay asthough lifeless swept the foe in pursuit. Not until after a long time,when everything was still, did I succeed in raising myself a little. SoI was found beside Ammata by the King, to whom I told the fate of both.The rest--how he lost the moment of victory, nay, threw away thevictory already won, you know."
"We know it," said Hilda, in a hollow tone.
"And where is Ammata--where is Thrasaric buried?" questioned Gibamund.
"Close beside Decimum, in two mounds. The land belongs to a colonist.According to the custom of our ancestors, our men placed three spearsupright upon each hillock. The King's horsemen then carried me back,and placed me on a charger, which bore me through this pitiable flight.Shame on this Vandal people! They let their princes and nobles fightand bleed--alone! The masses have accomplished nothing but a speedyflight."