CHAPTER IX.
Lucius Licinius galloped before them, sprang off his horse, and mounted the tribune.
"A herald from the Goths! I arrived too late to prevent his entrance as usual. The famished legionaries at the Tiburtinian Gate opened it for him."
"Down with him! He must not speak," cried the Prefect, rushing from the tribune and drawing his sword.
But the people guessed his intentions. They surrounded the herald with cries of joy, protecting him from the Prefect.
"Peace!"
"Hail!"
"Bread! Peace! Listen to the herald!"
"No! do not listen to him!" thundered Cethegus. "Who is Prefect of Rome, he or I? Who defends this city? I, Cornelius Cethegus Cæsarius; and I tell you, do not listen!"
And he tried to make a way for himself.
But, thick as a swarm of bees, women and old men threw themselves into his path, and the armed citizens surrounded the herald.
"Speak, herald!" they cried; "what bring you?"
"Peace and deliverance!" cried Thorismuth, and waved his white wand. "Totila, King of the Italians and the Goths, sends you greetings and demands a safe-conduct into the city, in order to tell you important news and to announce peace."
"Hail to King Totila!"
"We will hear him. He shall come!"
Cethegus had hastily mounted his horse, and now ordered his trumpeters to blow a flourish.
At this well-known sound, all became quiet.
"Hear me, herald! I, the governor of this city, refuse a safe-conduct. I shall treat every Goth who enters this city as an enemy."
But at these words a cry of rage burst from the multitude.
"Cornelius Cethegus, are you our officer or our tyrant? We are free. You have often vaunted the majesty of the Roman people. And the Roman people command that the King shall be heard. Do we not, people of Rome?"
"We do!"
"It is according to law," growled the Quirites.
"You have heard! Will you obey or defy the people of Rome?"
Cethegus sheathed his sword.
Thorismuth and his companion galloped off to fetch the King.
The Prefect signed to the young tribunes to draw near him.
"Lucius Licinius," he said, "go to the Capitol. Salvius Julianus, you will protect the lower river-bolt: the bolt of masts. Quintus Piso, you will defend the chain-bolt. Marcus Licinius, you shall keep the bulwark which protects the ascent to the Capitoline Hill and the way to my house. The mercenaries will follow me."
"What do you intend to do, general?" asked Lucius Licinius, as he was preparing to obey the order.
"Attack and destroy the barbarians."
There were but fifty horsemen and about a hundred lance-bearers to follow the Prefect, when he had sent away the tribunes.
Meanwhile the people had waited anxiously for the sound of the Gothic horns.
At last they were heard, and presently there appeared Thorismuth and six horn-blowers; Wisand the bandalarius, carrying the royal blue banner of the Goths; the King, accompanied by Duke Guntharis and Earl Teja; and about ten other leaders, almost all without weapons; only Earl Teja displayed his broad and dreaded axe.
As this procession was on the point of setting forth from the Gothic encampment, to ride through the Metronian Gate into the city, Duke Guntharis felt some one pull his mantle, and looking down, beheld a boy or youth, with short and curly brown hair and blue eyes, standing near his horse, with a shepherd's staff in his hand.
"Art thou the King? No, thou art not he. And that, that is brave Teja, the Black Earl, as the songs call him!"
"What wouldst thou with the King, boy?"
"I would fight for him."
"Thou art still too tender. Go, and return two summers hence. And, meanwhile, guard thy flocks."
"I may be young, but I am no longer weak, and I have guarded the flock long enough. Ha! I see that that is the King!" and he went up to Totila, and bowed gracefully, saying:
"By thy leave, O King!"
And he caught the bridle of the horse to lead it, as if it were a matter of course.
The King looked amused, and smiled at the boy.
And the boy led his horse.
But Guntharis thought: "I have seen that face before! But no, it is only a resemblance; yet such a resemblance I have never seen in my life. And how noble is the young shepherd's carriage!"
"Hail to King Totila! Peace and salvation!" cried the people, as the Goths entered the city.
But the young guide looked up into the King's shining countenance, and sang in a soft sweet voice:
"Cunning Cethegus:
Tricks will not serve thee!
Teja the terrible
Daunts thy defiance.
And brightly arises,
Like morning and May-time,
Like night from the darkness,
The favourite of heaven,
The bright, and the beautiful
King of the Goths!
To him are wide opened
All halls and all hearts;
To him, overpowered,
Yield Winter and Woe!"
When the King entered the Forum, there fell a dead silence upon the people.
But Cethegus, who had expected this, immediately took advantage of it. He urged his horse into the crowd and cried:
"What would you, Goth, in this my city?"
Totila cast one flaming look at him, and then turned away.
"With him I speak, for evermore, only with my sword! With him, the threefold liar and murderer! To you I speak, unhappy and befooled inhabitants of Rome! Your sufferings wring my heart. I come to end your misery. I come without arms, for I am safer, trusting to the honour of Romans, than protected by sword and shield."
He paused.
Cethegus no more attempted to interrupt him.
"Quirites," continued Totila, "you yourselves have truly acknowledged that I might long since have stormed your walls with my hosts. For now you have but stones, and no men to defend them. But if Rome were carried by storm, then Rome would burn; and I confess that I would rather never enter Rome, than enter to find it in ashes. I will not reproach you with the manner in which you have requited the kindness of Theodoric and the Goths. Have you forgotten the time when you coined your gold with the grateful inscription, 'Roma felix'? Truly you are punished enough; more heavily punished by hunger, pestilence, and the yoke of the Byzantines and that demon Cethegus, than by the severest penalty which we could have inflicted. More than eight thousand people--women and children not included--have perished. Your deserted houses fall into ruins; you greedily pluck the grass which grows in your temples; despair walks your streets with hollow eyes; famished mothers--Roman mothers--have devoured the flesh of their own children. Until this day, your resistance was heroic, although lamentable. But henceforward it is madness. Your last hope was placed in Belisarius. Then hear: Belisarius has sailed from Sicily to Byzantium. He has deserted you."
Cethegus ordered the trumpets to be sounded, in order to drown the groans of the multitude.
For some time it was all in vain, but at last the brazen tones conquered.
When all was quiet the Prefect cried:
"It is a lie! Do not believe such barefaced lies!"
"Have the Goths, have I, ever lied to you, Romans? But you shall believe your own eyes and ears. Come forward, man, and speak. Do you know him?"
A Byzantine in rich armour was led forward by the Gothic horsemen.
"Konon!"
"The navarchus of Belisarius!"
"We know him!" cried the crowd.
Cethegus turned pale.
"Men of Rome," said the Byzantine, "Belisarius, the magister militum, has sent me to King Totila. I arrived in the camp to-day. Belisarius was obliged to return to Byzantium. On leaving Sicily, he recommended Rome and Italy to the well-known benevolence of King Totila. This was my message to him and to you."
"If this be so," cried Cethegus, with a threatening voice, "then now is the day to prove whether you be Romans or bastards! Mark me well! Cethegus the Prefect will never, never surrender his Rome to the barbarians! Oh I think once more of the time when I was your all! When you exalted my name above those of the saints! Who has given you, for years, work, bread, and, what is more, weapons? Who protected you--Belisarius or Cethegus?--when these barbarians encamped by millions before your walls? Who saved Rome, with his heart's blood, from King Witichis? For the last time I call you to the combat! Do you hear me, grandchildren of Camillus? As he once, solely by the might of the Roman sword, swept the Gauls, who had already taken the city, away from the Capitol, so will I sweep away these Goths! Follow me! We will sally forth and let the world see what is possible to Roman valour when led by Cethegus and despair. Choose!"
"Aye, choose!" cried Totila, raising himself in his stirrups. "Choose between certain destruction or certain freedom. If you once more follow this madman, I can no longer protect you. Listen to Earl Teja, who stands at my right hand. You know him, I think. I can no longer protect you."
"No," cried Teja, raising his mighty axe, "then, by the God of Hate, no more mercy! If you refuse this last offer, not a life will be spared within these walls. I, and a thousand others, have sworn it!"
"I offer you complete immunity, and will prove a mild and just king to you. Ask Neapolis what I am! Choose between me and the Prefect!"
"Hail to King Totila! Death to the Prefect!" was the unanimous acclamation.
And, as if at a signal, the women and children, with uplifted hands, threw themselves on their knees; while all the armed inhabitants raised their weapons threateningly, and many a spear was hurled at the Prefect. They were the very weapons which he himself had given to the people.
"They are dogs--no Romans!" exclaimed Cethegus, with disdainful fury, and turned his horse. "To the Capitol!"
And his horse, with a sudden leap, cleared the row of kneeling and screaming women. Through a shower of darts which the Romans now sent after him galloped the Prefect, riding down the few who had courage enough to try to stop him.
His crimson crest soon disappeared in the distance.
His companions galloped swiftly after him. The lance-bearers on foot retreated in good order, now and then turning and levelling their spears. Thus they reached the lofty bulwark which, held by Marcus Licinius, protected the ascent to the Capitol, and the way to the Prefect's house.
"What next? Shall we pursue?" the citizens asked the King.
"No--stay. Let all the gates be opened. Wagons laden with meat, bread, and wine stand ready in the camp. Let them be brought into all parts of the city. Feed the people of Rome for three whole days. My Goths shall keep watch to prevent excess."
"And the Prefect?" asked Duke Guntharis.
"Cornelius Cethegus, the ex-Prefect of Rome, will not escape the vengeance of God," cried Totila, turning away.
"And not mine!" cried the shepherd-boy.
"And not mine!" said Teja, and galloped after the King.