Volume Ii Part 45 (2/2)

Presently the curtain of the tent was lifted, and Totila entered in his s.h.i.+ning armour, his white mantle floating round him.

”Hail, my King and my Queen!” he said, bowing, ”My mission is fulfilled, I bring you the friendly greeting of the Frank King. He had an army ready for the service of Byzantium, and prepared to attack thee. I succeeded in changing his intentions. His army will not enter Italy against the Goths. Duke Markja of Mediolanum, who, until now, has defended the Cottian Alps against the Franks, is therefore free. He follows me in haste with all his thousands. On my way hither I gathered together whatever men I found capable of bearing arms, and also the garrisons of the fortresses. Further: until now we were short of cavalry. Be comforted, my King! I bring thee six thousand hors.e.m.e.n, splendidly mounted. They long to caper upon the plains of Rome. _One_ wish alone dwells in all our hearts: lead us to battle, to Rome!”

”Thanks, my friend, to thee and to thy hors.e.m.e.n! Speak, Hildebrand, how is the army now divided? Tell me, generals, how many men does each one of you command? Notaries, write the numbers down.”

”I command three thousand foot-soldiers,” cried Hildebad.

”And I forty thousand foot and horse with s.h.i.+eld and spear,” said Duke Guntharis.

”I lead forty thousand foot: archers, slingers, and spear-bearers,”

said Earl Grippa of Ravenna.

”I seven thousand with knives and clubs,” counted Hildebrand.

”Then come Totila's six thousand horse, and fourteen selected thousands led by Teja, with battle-axes--where is he? I miss him here--and I have raised the number of my troops, foot and horse, to fifty thousand,”

concluded the King.

”Altogether that makes a hundred and sixty thousand,” said the protonotary, writing down the numbers, and handing the parchment to the King.

A ray of warlike joy and exultation spread over the face of Witichis.

”A hundred and sixty thousand Gothic warriors! Belisarius, shall they lay down their arms before thee without a struggle?--What repose do you need before the march?”

Just then Teja hurried into the tent. As he entered he caught the last question. His eyes flashed; he trembled with rage.

”Repose? not an hour longer; up! revenge, King Witichis! a monstrous crime has been committed, which cries to Heaven for vengeance. Lead us at once to battle!”

”What has happened?”

”One of Belisarius's generals, the Hun Ambazuch, besieged, as thou knowest, the fortress of Petra with his Huns and Armenians. There was no relief for the garrison far and near. Only young Earl Arahad--he surely sought death--attacked the superior force with his small troop; he fell in brave combat. The little company of armed Goths in the fortress resisted desperately, for all the helpless people of the Goths, the Aged, the sick, women and children, coming from the plains of Tuscany, Valeria, and Picenum, and amounting to some thousands, had taken refuge in the fortress from the enemy. At last famine compelled them to open the gates, with the stipulation that they should be allowed to leave unhurt. The Hun swore that he would not allow a drop of Gothic blood to be shed. He entered, and ordered the Goths to a.s.semble in the Great Basilica of St. Zeno. This they did, above five thousand people and a few hundred warriors. And when they were all a.s.sembled----”

Teja paused with a shudder.

”Well?” asked Mataswintha, turning pale.

”The Hun closed the doors, surrounded the church with his troops--and burnt all the five thousand, together with the church.”

”And his promise!” cried Witichis.

”Yes, so cried the desperate people amidst the smoke and flames! 'My promise?' laughed the Hun, 'it will be fulfilled: not a drop of blood will be shed. The Goths must be burnt out of Italy, like field-mice and vermin.' And so the Byzantines looked on, while five thousand Goths, aged men, women, sick people, and children--King Witichis, dost thou hear?--_children_! were miserably suffocated and burnt to death! Such things happen, and thou--thou sendest offers of peace! Up, King Witichis!” cried the enraged man, drawing his sword. ”If thou be a man, set forth at once to revenge thy people! The spirits of the murdered will march before us. Lead us to battle! Lead us to revenge!”

”Lead us to battle! lead us to revenge!” echoed the Goths with a shout.

Witichis rose with quiet majesty.

<script>