Volume I Part 2 (2/2)
One hope, one hate, one love, one lament, As we drop to one drop Our blood as blood-brethren.”
At these words he bared his left arm, the others did the same; close together they stretched their five arms over the cauldron, the old man lifted the sharp flint-knife, and with one stroke scratched the skin of his own and the others' forearms, so that the blood of all flowed in red drops into the brazen cauldron. Then they retook their former positions, and the old man continued murmuring:
”And we swear the solemn oath, To sacrifice all that is ours, House, horse, and armour, Court, kindred, and cattle, Wife, weapons, and wares, Son, and servants, and body, and life, To the glance and glory of the race of Gaut, To the good Goths.
And who of us would withdraw From honouring the oath with all sacrifices--”
here he, and at a sign, the others also, stepped out of the ditch from under the strip of turf--
”His red blood shall run unrevenged Like this water under the wood-sod--”
he lifted the cauldron, poured its b.l.o.o.d.y contents into the ditch, and then took it out, together with the other implements--
”Upon his head shall the halls of Heaven Crash c.u.mbrous down and crush him, Solid as this sod.”
At one stroke he struck down the three supporting lance-shafts, and dully fell the heavy turf-roof back into the ditch. The five men now placed themselves again on the spot thus covered by the turf, with their hands entwined, and the old man said in more rapid tones:
”Whosoever does not keep this oath; whosoever does not protect his blood-brother like his own brother during his life, and revenge his death; whosoever refuses to sacrifice everything that he possesses to the people of the Goths, when called upon to do so by a brother in case of necessity, shall be for ever subject to the eternal and infernal powers which reign under the green gra.s.s of the earth; good men shall tread with their feet over the perjurer's head, and his name shall be without honour wherever Christian folk ring bells and heathen folk offer sacrifices, wherever mothers caress their children and the wind blows over the wide world. Say, companions, shall it be thus with the vile perjurer?”
”Thus shall it be with him,” repeated the four men.
After a grave pause, Hildebrand loosened the chain of their hands, and said:
”That you may know why I bade you come hither, and how sacred this place is to me, come and see.”
With this he lifted the torch and went before them behind the mighty trunk of the oak, in front of which they had taken the oath. Silently his friends followed, and saw with astonishment, that, exactly in a line with the turfy ditch in which they had stood, there yawned a wide and open grave, from which the slab of stone had been rolled away. At the bottom, s.h.i.+ning ghastly in the light of the torch, lay three long white skeletons; a few rusty pieces of armour, lance-points, and s.h.i.+eld-bosses lay beside them.
The men looked with surprise; now into the grave, now at Hildebrand. He silently held the torch over the chasm for some minutes. At last he said quietly:
”My three sons. They have lain here for more than thirty years. They fell on this mountain in the last battle for the city of Ravenna. They fell in the same hour; to-day is the day. They rushed with joyous shouts against the enemies' spears--for their people.”
He ceased. The men looked down with emotion. At last the old man drew himself up and glanced at the sky.
”It is enough,” said he, ”the stars are paling. Midnight is long since past. You three return into the city. Thou, Teja, wilt surely remain with me; to thee, more than to any other, is given the gift of sorrow, as of song; and keep with me the guard of honour beside the dead.”
Teja nodded, and sat down without a word at the foot of the grave, just where he was standing. The old man gave Totila the torch, and leaned opposite Teja against the stone slab. The other three signed to him with a parting gesture. Gravely, and buried in deep thought, they descended to the city.
CHAPTER III.
A few weeks after this midnight meeting near Ravenna an a.s.sembly took place in Rome; just as secret, also under protection of night, but held by very different persons for very different aims.
It took place on the Appian Way, near the C[oe]meterium of St.
Calixtus, in a half-ruined pa.s.sage of the Catacombs; those mysterious underground ways, which almost make a second city under the streets and squares of Rome.
These secret vaults--originally old burial-places, often the refuge of young Christian communities--are so intricate, and their crossings, terminations, exits, and entrances so difficult to thread, that they can only be entered under the guidance of some one intimately acquainted with their inner recesses.
But the men, whose secret intercourse we are about to watch, feared no danger. They were well led. For it was Silverius, the Catholic archdeacon of the old church of St. Sebastian, who had led his friends direct from the crypt of his basilica down a steep staircase into this branch of the vaults; and the Roman priests had the reputation of having studied the windings of these labyrinths since the days of the first confessor.
<script>