A Struggle for Rome, v. 3

by Felix Dahn

CHAPTER XII.

The King broke the seals and read:

"'This is written by Hildegisel, the son of Hildemuth, whom they call "the long;" once priest, now castellan at Teriolis. Written at the dictation of old Iffa; and it is all written down faithfully. Lo!--now it begins! The Latin is not always as good as that sung in the churches. But thou, O King, wilt understand it. For where it is bad Latin it is good Gothic. Lo!--now it really begins. Thus speaks the old man Iffa: My Lord and King Totila; the roll which is wrapped in this cover is the writing of the man Wargs, who, however, was neither my son, nor was his name Wargs--but his name was Alaric, and he was a Balthe, the banished Duke of----'"

A ay of astonishment from all present interrupted the King. He paused. But Duke Guntharis cried:

"Then Adalgoth, who calls himself the son of Wargs, is the son of Alaric! whom he himself, in his office of herald, has often, riding through the town on a white horse, loudly summoned to appear. And never saw I a greater resemblance than that between the father Alaric and the son Adalgoth."

"Hail to the Duke of Apulia!" cried Totila, with a smile, as he embraced the boy.

But, speechless with excitement, Gotho sank upon her knees, her eyes filled with tears, and, looking up at Adalgoth, she sighed:

"Then thou art not my brother! O God!--Hail, Duke of Apulia! Farewell! farewell for ever!" and she rose to her feet and turned to go.

"Not my sister!" cried Adalgoth. "That is the best thing which this dukedom brings me! Stop there!" and he caught Gotho in his arms, pressed her to his bosom, and kissed her heartily. Then he led her up to the King, saying, "Now, King Totila, unite us! Here is my bride--here is my duchess!"

And Totila, who had meanwhile cast a rapid glance over the two documents, answered smiling:

"In this case I do not need the wisdom of Solomon. Young Duke of Apulia, thus I betroth thee to thy bride." And he laid the laughing, weeping girl in Adalgoth's arms.

Then he turned to the assembled Goths, and said:

"Permit me shortly to explain to you what this writing--the Latin of which is rather rude, for Hildegisel was cleverer with the sword than the pen--contains. Here is, besides, Duke Alaric's declaration of his innocence."

"That has already been proved by his son," cried Duke Guntharis. "And I never believed in his guilt."

"Duke Alaric," continued the King, "discovered his secret accuser too late. Our Adalgoth, as you know, brought his innocence to light, when he found the hidden documents in the broken statue of Cæsar. Cethegus the Prefect had kept a sort of diary in a secret cypher. But Cassiodorus, with grief and amazement, deciphered the writing, and found an entry at the commencement of the book, written about twelve years ago, which ran thus: 'Duke Alaric condemned. That he was innocent, is now only believed by himself and his accuser. He who injures Cethegus shall not live. At the time when I woke from a death-like swoon on the banks of the Tiber, I swore to be revenged. I made a vow and it is now fulfilled.' The cause of this hatred is still a secret. But it is connected in some way with our friend Julius Montanus. Where is he?"

"He has already returned to St. Peter's with Cassiodorus," answered Earl Teja; "excuse them. Every day at this hour they pray for peace with Byzantium. And Julius," he added with a bitter smile, "prays also for the Prefect's soul."

"King Theodoric," said the King, "was hardly to be persuaded of the guilt of the brave duke, with whom he was on terms of intimate friendship."

"Yes," observed Duke Guntharis, "he once gave him a broad gold bracelet with a runic device."

The King now resumed his reading of the papers:

"'I took a bracelet given me by King Theodoric'--these are the words of the duke--'when I fled with my child. Broken in two just in the centre of the runic inscription. It will one day serve to prove the honourable birth of my son.'"

"He bears the proof on his face," cried Duke Guntharis.

"But the golden proof is also not wanting!" exclaimed Adalgoth: "at least old Iffa gave me a broken bracelet. Here it is," and he took out the half of a broken bracelet, which he carried tied to a ribbon round his neck; "I have never been able to explain the sense of these words:

"'The Amelung--
The eagle--
In need--
The friend--'"

"Thou hast not the other half," said Gotho, and took the second half of the bracelet from her bosom. "See, here is written:

"'--to the Balthe,
--to the falcon,
--and death,
--to the friend.'"

And now Teja, holding the two halves together, read:

"'The Amelung to the Balthe,
The eagle to the falcon,
In need and death,
The friend to the friend.'"

But the King continued to read from the roll:

"'King Theodoric could no longer protect me when letters were laid before him, in which my handwriting was so excellently imitated that I myself, on being shown a harmless sentence which had been cut out, acknowledged without hesitation that I had written it. Then the judges fitted the piece into the parchment and read the whole to me. That letter purported to be written to the court of Byzantium, with the promise that the writer would murder the King and evacuate South Italy, if the Emperor would acknowledge him as King of North Italy. And the judges condemned me. As I was led away from the hall, I met my old friend Cethegus Cæsarius in the passage. I had some time before succeeded in persuading a girl with whom he was in love to leave him and marry a good friend of mine in Gaul. Cethegus forced his way through my guards, struck me lightly on the shoulder and said, "He from whom his love has been torn, comforts himself with revenge;" and his eyes told me that he, and no other, had been my secret accuser. As a last favour, the King procured me the means of escape. But I and all my house were outlawed. For a long time I wandered restlessly in the northern mountains, until I recollected that some old and faithful adherents of my house were settled upon the Iffinger mountain. Thither I went with my boy, taking with me a few hereditary jewels, and my faithful friends received me and my son, and hid me under the name of Wargs--the banished--and gave out that I was the son of old Iffa, sending away all untrustworthy servants who might have betrayed me. Thus I lived in secret for some years. I educate my son to be my avenger on Cethegus the traitor, and when I die, old Iffa will continue this education. I hope the day will come when my innocence will be proved. But if it delays too long, my son, when he can wield the sword, shall leave the Iffinger and go to Italy, and revenge his father upon Cethegus Cæsarius. That is my last word to my son.'--'But,'" the King now read from a second paper, "'soon after the Duke had written this, a great landslip buried him, together with some of my relations. And I, Iffa, have brought up the boy as my grandchild and Gotho's brother, for the ban had not been taken off the family of Duke Alaric, and I did not wish to expose the boy to the revenge of that devil, Cethegus. And that it might not be possible for the boy to betray anything about his dangerous parentage, I never told him of it. But when he was grown up, and I heard that there reigned in the Roman citadel a mild and just King, who had conquered the devilish Prefect as the God of Morning conquers the Giant of the Night, I sent young Adalgoth away, and told him that, according to his father's command, he must revenge the noble chief and patron of our family upon Cethegus the traitor. But I did not even then tell him that he was Alaric's son, for I feared the ban. So long as his father's innocence was unproved, his father's name could only injure him. And I sent him away in great haste, for I discovered that the belief in his brotherly relation to my grandchild, Gotho, had not prevented him from loving her in a very unbrotherly manner. I might have told him that Gotho was not his sister. But far be it from me that I should dishonestly try to unite the noble scion of my old master and patron with my blood, the simple shepherd's child. No, if justice still exists upon earth, he will soon take his place as Duke of Apulia, like his father before him. And as I fear that I may die before he sends me word of the Prefect's ruin, I have begged the long Hildegisel to write all this down.' (And I, Hildegisel, have received for the writing twenty pounds of the best cheese, and twelve jars of honey, which I thankfully acknowledge, and all of which was good.) 'And with, these writings, and with the blue stones and fine garments and golden solidi from the inheritance of the Balthes, I send my child Gotho to King Totila the Just, to whom she must reveal everything. He will take the ban away from the innocent son of the guiltless duke. And when Adalgoth knows that he is the heir of the Balthes, and that Gotho is not his sister--then he may freely choose or shun the shepherdess; but this he must know, that the race of the Iffingers was never a race of vassals, but free from the very beginning, although under the protection of the House of Balthe.

"'And now. King Totila, decide the fate of my grandchild and Adalgoth.'"