CHAPTER XI
The following day, after again inspecting the restored fortifications of Carthage, and finding them sufficiently strong to receive, in case of necessity, his defeated army and defy a siege, Belisarius sent all the cavalry, except five hundred picked Illyrians, out of the gates to meet the foe. To Althias the Thracian he assigned the chosen body of shield-bearers with the imperial banner. They were not to shun, but rather invite a skirmish with the outposts. He himself was to follow the next day with the main body of the infantry and the five hundred Illyrian horsemen. Only the few soldiers absolutely required to guard the gates, towers, and walls remained in the city.
At Trikameron, about seventeen Roman miles--seventeen thousand paces--west of Carthage, Althias met the foe.
The front ranks of both troops exchanged a few arrow-shots, and returned to their armies with the report. The Byzantines pitched their camp where they stood. Not far from them blazed the numerous watch-fires of the Vandals. A narrow brook ran between the two positions. The whole region was flat and treeless, with the exception of one hill of moderate size that rose from the sandy soil very near the stream on the left wing of the Romans.
Without waiting for Althias's command or permission, Aigan, the principal leader of the Huns, dashed up the hill as soon as he heard that the men were to encamp here to-day and fight on the morrow. The other leaders and their bands darted after him with the speed of an arrow. He sent a message to Althias that the Huns would spend the night on the hill, and take their position the next day. Althias avoided forbidding what he could not prevent without bloodshed. But the hill dominated the surrounding neighborhood.
At a late hour of the night, the chieftains of the Huns met on the top of the hill.
"Is there no spy near?" asked Aigan. "This Herulian Prince never leaves us."
"My lord, I obeyed your commands. Seventy Huns are lying on guard in a circle around our station; not a bird can fly over them unnoticed."
"What shall we do to-morrow?" asked a third, leaning against his horse's shoulder and patting its shaggy mane. "I no longer trust the word of Belisarius. He is deceiving us."
"Belisarius is not deceiving us. His master is deluding him."
"I saw a strange sign," the second leader began anxiously. "Just as darkness closed in, little blue flames danced upon the points of the Romans' spears. What does that mean?"
"It means victory," cried the third, greatly excited. "There is a tradition in our tribe, my great-grandfather saw it himself, and it was transmitted from generation to generation, before the terrible day in Gaul when the scourge of the great Attila broke."
"Atta in the clouds, great Atta, be gracious to us," murmured all three, bowing low toward the east.
"My ancestor was on guard duty one dark night beside a rushing stream. On the opposite shore two men, with spears on their shoulders, were riding to examine the neighborhood. My great-grandfather and his companions slipped among the tall rushes and bent their bows, which never failed. They took aim. 'Look, Ætius,' cried one, 'your spear is shining.' 'And yours too, King of the Visigoths,' replied the other. Our ancestors looked up, and, in truth, blue flames were dancing around the spears of the enemy. Our people fled in terror, not daring to shoot those whom the gods protected. And the day after Atta--"
"Atta, Atta, be not angry with us!" they again whispered, gazing in terror up at the clouds.
"What then meant victory to the Germans and misfortune to their foes," replied Aigan, distrustfully, "may have the same meaning now. We will wait. Wherever victory turns, we will turn too; that is why I chose this hill for our station. From here we can see clearly the whole course of the battle. Either straight across the brook on the Vandals' left flank--"
"Or to the right on the Romans' centre--like a whirlwind!"
"I would rather plunder the Vandals' camp. It is said to be very rich in yellow gold."
"And in white-bosomed women."
"But all Carthage has more gold than the Vandal Prince in his tent."
"But the best part is, the decision will probably come before the Lion of the Romans arrives."
"You are right: I would not willingly spur my horse against the wrathful lightning of his eyes."
"Patience. Wait quietly. Wherever I send an arrow, we will rush; and Atta will hover, high in the air, above his children."
Removing his helmet of thick black sheepskin, he threw it upward, singing softly:
"Atta, Atta, booty grant us,
Booty to thy much-loved children,
Yellow gold and shining silver,
And the red blood of the vineyard,
And the foeman's fairest women."
All, with bared heads, repeated the words in the deepest, most fervent reverence. Then Aigan replaced his helmet:
"Silence! Let us separate."