Suddenly, on the nearest hill, three riders appeared; they were the Alemanni.
The Romans halted, and disposed themselves in battle-order. Julian, surrounded by six hundred steel-clad horsemen, the Clibanarii, commanded the horsemen of the right wing. On the left extended the infantry, under the orders of Severus. Julian himself was also under the command of this general.
The barbarians opposed their cavalry to that of Julian. At their head rode the Alemannic king Chlodomir. Fronting Severus, Agenaric, the young nephew of Chlodomir, led the German infantry.
War-horns, trumpets, and fifes resounded; ensigns and flags inscribed with the names of cohorts, the purple dragons and Roman eagles, assembled at the head of the legions. In the van strode axe-bearers, chief centurions, and primipilares, men bred to victory. Their regular and heavy tread shook the earth. Suddenly the foot soldiers of Severus halted. The barbarians, who had been lurking in a trench, sprang from their ambuscade and attacked the Romans. Julian from a distance saw the confusion that ensued and galloped up to restore order. He attempted to calm the soldiers, speaking hastily now to one cohort, now to another, in something of the concise style of Julius Cæsar. When he uttered the words, "Exurgamus viri fortes" or "Advenit, socii, justem pugnandi jam tempus," this young man of twenty-two was thinking with pride: "At last I am like such and such a famous soldier!" Even in the very fire of action he never forgot his books, and rejoiced to enact over again familiar scenes of Livy, Plutarch, and Sallust. The well-tried Severus restrained his ardour, and, while giving a certain liberty to Julian, retained the general direction of the action. Arrows whizzed and barbarian javelins, dragging long cords; and war-engines flung huge stones hundreds of yards.
The Romans now found themselves face to face at last with the terrible and mysterious inhabitants of the North, about whom so many incredible legends were afloat. Some wore bear-skins on their backs, and on their shaggy heads the gaping jaws of wolves. Others had their helms adorned with the horns of stag and bull. The Alemanni were so contemptuous of death that, keeping only lance and sword, they frequently flung themselves into battle stark naked.
Their reddish hair was knotted on the top of their heads and fell back on the neck in a thick mass or plaited mane. They wore long sweeping broad moustaches and their skins were deeply bronzed. A great number were so savage that, unfamiliar with the use of steel, they fought with bone-tipped lances dipped in violent poison. A scratch from this primitive barb was sufficient to produce a slow death in terrible agony. From head to foot, instead of armour they wore thin scales pared from the hoofs of horses and sewn on linen, a kind of horny mail. In this array the barbarians seemed strange monsters, clad in birds' feathers and fish scales.
There were also Saxons with pale blue eyes, men for whom the sea had no terrors, but who feared the land.
The foremost primipilares, locking their shields together, formed a compact wall of steel, and advanced steadily, slowly, almost invulnerable to blows. The Alemanni rushed upon this wall with ferocious cries, like the hoarse growls of bears. The main fight began, breast against breast, shield against shield. Dust was so thick over the plain that the sun was darkened. At this moment on the right wing the iron-clad horses of the Clibanarii began rearing and taking fright. The stampede threatened to crush the legions of the rearguard. Through the cloud of arrows and lances, the fire-coloured scarf of the gigantic king Chlodomir was shining in bright sunlight.
Julian in the nick of time galloped up on his black charger, bespattered with foam. He grasped the situation. The barbarian foot-soldiers, placed for the purpose between their horsemen, were slipping under the legs of the Roman horses, and disembowelling them; the horses fell, dragging down in their fall the cataphracti, or men in scale-armour, who, overwhelmed under its weight, were unable to rise. Julian placed himself directly behind the flying horsemen; it was a question of either stemming the flight or being crushed himself. The tribune of the Clibanarii came into collision with him. Pale with shame and terror, he recognised Julian. Julian's forehead flushed purple, he forgot his classical books, leaned over, seized the flying man by the throat, and shouted with a voice which appeared to himself strangely savage—
"Coward!"