"Let them die!"
Undismayed by the approach of death, the Lombards met their fate in silence. None asked for pardon. They died martyrs to the holy cause of freedom, and in the defence of the most sacred rights of their native land. But their last glance was one of implacable hatred for the tyrant.
"Count Palatine, take possession of the fortress of Cinola at once, before the Milanese can strengthen themselves in the works," said Barbarossa. "We will wait here for Goswin, and then follow with the wounded."
Wittelsbach mounted, and rode away.
Erwin had remained near the prince, and Barbarossa turned with a kind smile towards the boy, who had so bravely fulfilled his knightly duties in the fight, and who had so efficiently protected the life of his sovereign.
"You have well merited your godfather's thanks, my young friend," said he, "and we will not prove ungrateful. Ask me what favor you will, I promise that it shall be granted."
Erwin bowed in silence, but before he could speak, Goswin rode up, bringing with him as prisoner the knight Bonello, the late treacherous governor of Cinola.
"Ah! by Saint Guy, Sire, this has been a brave day's work," said he, pointing to the dead bodies. "I would have finished mine long since, but for this noble chevalier. I must admit that he is a gallant soldier, although, alas! a most foul traitor!"
Frederic gazed contemptuously upon his former partisan. Bonello was a man still in the prime of life, and, though short in stature, well and powerfully built. His visage, though dejected, was calm. Like the majority of the inferior nobility, he had been long one of the warmest adherents of the Emperor, although he had acted as such rather through necessity than from choice. His glance fell before that of his sovereign.
"Are you ready to die the death of a traitor?" asked Frederic.