CHAPTER VII
The flying Vandals, leaving Carthage far on the right, had struck into the road which at Decimum turns toward the northwest, leading to Numidia.
In this direction also the numerous women and children, who had left Carthage many days before with the army, had gone from the camp on the morning of the day before, under safe escort, to the little village of Castra Vetera, half a day's march from the battlefield. Here, about two hours before midnight, they met the fugitives from Decimum; the pursuit had ceased with the closing in of darkness. The main body of troops lay around the hamlet in the open air; the few tents brought by the women from the other camp, and the huts in the village, were used to shelter the many wounded and the principal leaders of the army. In one of these tents, stretched on coverlets and pillows, was Gibamund; Hilda knelt beside him, putting a fresh bandage on his foot. As soon as she had finished, she turned to Gundomar, who was sitting on the other side of the narrow space with his head propped on his hand. Blood was trickling through 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 the King?"
"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 the guards. 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 stopped and 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 no danger."
"And Eugenia?" he asked after a pause.
"She is lying in the next house as if stupefied. When she heard of her husband's death, she cried: 'To him! Into his grave! Sigrun--' (I once told her the legend of Helgi) and tried to rush madly away. But she sank fainting in my arms. Even after she had recovered her senses, she lay on the couch as if utterly crushed. 'To him! Sigrun--into his grave!--I am coming, Thrasaric!' was all that she would answer to my questions. She tried to rise to obtain more news, but could not, and I sternly forbade her to attempt it again. I will tell her cautiously all that it is well for her to know--no more. But speak, Gundomar, if you can; 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 the enemy at all. I sent messenger after messenger to Thrasaric, as I did not receive the promised report that he was leaving Decimum. Not one returned; all fell into the hands of the foe. No message came from Thrasaric. The time appointed by the King when I was to make the attack had arrived; in obedience to the order I set forth, though perfectly aware of the superior strength of the enemy, and though the main body of the troops under Thrasaric had not come. When we were within an arrow-shot, the horsemen, the Huns, dashed to the right and left, and we saw behind them the Thracian infantry, seven ranks deep, who received us with a hail of arrows. They aimed at the horses; mine, the foremost, and all in the front rank instantly fell. Your brave brother in the second rank, himself wounded by a shaft, lifted me with great difficulty on his own charger--I could not stand--and rescued me. The Huns now bore down upon us from both flanks; the Thracians pressed forward from the front with levelled spears. Not a hundred of my two thousand men are still alive." He groaned in anguish.
"But tell me how came Ammata,--against Gelimer's command, in spite of Thrasaric's guard--?" asked Hilda.
"It happened in this way," said the Gunding, pressing his hand to the aching wound in his head. "We had put the boy, unarmed, in the little Catholic basilica at Decimum, with the hostages from Carthage, among them young Publius Pudentius."
"Hilderic and Euages too?"
"No. Verus had them taken to the second camp near Bulla. Bleda, the captured Hun, had been tied with a rope outside to the bronze rings of the church doors; he lay on the upper step. On the square, in front of the little church, were about twenty of our horsemen. Many, by Thrasaric's command,--he rode repeatedly across the square, gazing watchfully in every direction,--had dismounted. Thrusting their spears into the sand beside their horses, they lay flat on the low roofs of the surrounding houses looking toward the southwest to see the advancing 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 road from Decimum, where Astarte's--formerly Modigisel's--villa stands. So I heard every word that was spoken in the basilica. Two boyish voices were 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 the much-tortured Catholics? Do you seek shelter here?' 'The order of the King,' replied Ammata, choking with rage. 'Ah,' sneered the other; it was Pudentius--I now recognized the tones--'I would not be commanded to do that by king or emperor. I am chained hand and foot, or I would have been outside long ago, fighting with the Romans.' 'The order of the King, I tell you.' 'Order of cowardice. Ha, if I were a member of the royal house for whose throne men were fighting, nothing would keep me in a church, while--Hark! that is the tuba. It is proclaiming a Roman victory.'
"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. A pale face, two large dark eyes, gazed in, unseen by any one.
"At the same instant," continued the Gunding, "a figure sprang from the very high window of the basilica,--I don't yet understand how the boy climbed up to it,--ran past me, swung himself on the horse of one of our troopers, tore the spear from the ground beside it, and with the exulting shout, 'Vandals! Vandals!' dashed down the street to meet the Byzantines.
"'Ammata! Ammata! Halt!' Thrasaric called after him. But he was already far away. 'Follow him! Gundomar! Follow him! Save the boy!' cried Thrasaric, 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 the narrow 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 a whole troop of mounted lancers, who stared in amazement at the mad boy.
"'Back, Ammata! Fly, I will cover the entrance here,' shouted Thrasaric.
"'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 hurtling at us. Our three horses fell. We all sprang up unhurt. A spear struck the shield which Thrasaric had forced upon the boy, penetrating the hammer on it. A dozen of our men had now reached us. Six sprang from their horses, levelling their lances. We were enough to block the narrow entrance. The Byzantines dashed upon us; only three horses could come abreast. We three killed two horses and one man. Our foes were obliged to remove the dead animals, our three and the fourth, to gain space. While doing this Ammata sprang forward and struck down another Byzantine. As he leaped back an arrow grazed his neck; the blood burst forth; the boy laughed. Again the foes dashed forward. Again two fell. But Ammata was obliged to drop the hammer shield, there were now so many spears sticking in it, and Thrasaric received a lance-thrust in his shieldless left arm. Behind the Byzantines we now heard German horns; the sound was like the blast announcing the approach of our Vandal horsemen. 'Gibamund, or the King!' our men shouted. 'We are saved.'
"But we were lost. They were Herulians in the Emperor's pay. Their leader, a tall figure with eagle wings on his helmet, instantly assumed command of all the forces. He ordered several men to dismount and climb the 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 with a shower of spears. The boar's helm flew from my head, two lances had struck it at the same moment; a third now hit my skull and stretched me on the ground. At that moment, when our eyes were all fixed upon the enemy in front, a man on foot forced his way through our horsemen from the basilica behind. I heard a hoarse cry: 'Wait, boy!' and saw the flash of a sword. Ammata fell forward on his knees.
"It was Bleda, the captive Hun. The torn rope still dragged from his ankle. He had wrenched himself free and seized a weapon; before he could draw the sword from the boy's back Thrasaric's spear pierced him through and through. But the noble had forgotten the foes in front, and no longer struck the flying lances aside. Two spears pierced him at once; he received a deep wound in the thigh and staggered against the wall of the villa.
"A narrow door close beside him opened, and on the threshold stood Astarte. 'Come, my beloved, I will save you,' she said, seizing his arm. 'A secret passage from my cellar--'
"But Thrasaric silently shook her off and threw himself before the kneeling boy. For now Herulians and Byzantines, on foot and on horseback, 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. I will make the story brief. So long as he could move an arm, the faithful giant protected the boy with sword and spear; finally, when the spear-head was hacked off, the sword broken, he sheltered the boy with his own body. I saw how he spread the huge bearskin over him as a shield, and clasped both arms around the child's breast.
"'Surrender, brave warrior,' cried the leader of the Herulians. But Thrasaric--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 the tent."
"But Thrasaric shook his huge head and hurled his sword-hilt into the face of the nearest Byzantine, who fell, shrieking. Then so many lances flew at the same instant that Ammata sank lifeless on the ground. Thrasaric did not fall, but stood bending forward, his arms hanging loosely. The Herulian leader went close to him. 'In truth,' he said, 'never have I seen anything like this. The man is dead; but he cannot fall, so many spears, with handles resting on the ground, are fixed in his breast.' He gently drew out several; the strong noble slid down beside Ammata.
"Our men had fled as soon as they saw us both fall. Past me--I lay as though lifeless swept the foe in pursuit. Not until after a long time, when everything was still, did I succeed in raising myself a little. So I 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 the victory 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 spears upright 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 fight and bleed--alone! The masses have accomplished nothing but a speedy flight."