The Brass Bell; or, The Chariot of Death

by Eugène Sue

The song of the bards, the hope of victory with which they inspired their countrymen, caused us to redouble our efforts. The remains of the Iron Legion, almost annihilated, recrossed the river in disorder. At that moment we saw running in our direction a Roman cohort, panic-stricken and in full rout. Our men had driven them back from the top of the hill, at the foot of which was the tribe of Karnak. The cohort, thus taken between two enemies, was destroyed. Slaughter was beginning to tire Mikael's arm and my own when I noticed a Roman warrior of medium height, whose magnificent armor announced his lofty rank. He was on foot, and had lost his helmet in the fight. His large bald forehead, his pale face and his terrible look gave him a terrifying appearance. Armed with a sword, he was furiously beating his own soldiers, all unable to arrest their flight. I called my brother's attention to him.

"Guilhern," said he, "if they have fought everywhere as we have here, we are victorious. That soldier, by his gold and steel armor, must be a Roman general. Let us take him prisoner; he will be a good hostage. Help me and we'll have him."

Mikael immediately hurled himself on the warrior of the golden armor, while the latter was still trying to halt the fugitives. With a few bounds of my horse, I rejoined my brother. After a brief struggle, Mikael threw the Roman. Wishing not to kill, but to take him prisoner, Mikael held him under his knees, with his axe uplifted, to signify to the Roman that he would have to give himself up. The Roman understood; no longer struggled to free himself; and raised to heaven the one hand he had free that the gods might witness he yielded himself a prisoner.

"Off with him," said Mikael to me.

Mikael, who like myself, was stalwart and stout, while our prisoner was slim and not above middle height, took the Roman in his arms and lifted him from the ground. I grasped him by the collar of buffalo-hide which he had on over his breastplate, drew him towards me, pulled him up, and threw him across my horse, in front of the saddle. Then, taking the reins in my teeth so as to have one hand to hold the prisoner, and the other to threaten him with my axe, I pressed the flanks of my horse, and set out in this fashion towards the reserve of our army, both for the purpose of putting the prisoner in safe keeping, and to have my wounds dressed. I had hardly started, when one of the horsemen of the Mahrek-Ha-Droad, happening that way in his pursuit of the fleeing Romans, cried out, as he recognized the man I was carrying:

"it is caesar—strike—kill him!"

Thus I became aware that I had on my horse the direst of Gaul's foes. So far from entertaining any thought of killing him, and seized with stupor, my axe slipped from my hand, and I leaned back in order the better to contemplate that terrible Caesar whom I had in my power.

Unhappy me! Alas for Gaul! Caesar profited by my stupid astonishment, jumped down from my horse, called to his aid a troop of Numidian horsemen who were riding in search of him, and when I regained consciousness from my stupid amazement, the blunder was irreparable.[10] Caesar had leaped upon one of the Numidian riders' horse, while the others surrounded me. Furious at having allowed Caesar to escape, I now defended myself with frenzy. I received several fresh wounds and saw my brother Mikael die at my side. That misfortune was only the signal for others. Victory, so long hovering over our standards, went to the Romans. Caesar rallied his wavering legions; a considerable re-enforcement of fresh troops came to his aid; and our whole army was driven back in disorder upon the reserve, where were also our war-chariots, our wounded, our women and our children. Carried by the press of retreating combatants, I arrived in the proximity of the chariots, happy in the midst of defeat at having at least come near my mother and family, and at being able to defend them—if indeed the strength were spared me, for my wounds were weakening me more and more. Alas! The gods had condemned me to a horrible trial. I can now repeat the words of Albinik and his wife, both killed in the attack on the Roman galleys, and battling on the water as we did on the land for the freedom of our beloved country: "None ever saw, nor will ever see the frightful scene that I witnessed."

Thrown back towards the chariots, still fighting, attacked at once by the Numidian cavalry, by the legionaries and by the Cretan archers, we yielded ground step by step. Already we could hear the bellowing of the oxen, the shrill sound of the numerous brass bells which trimmed their yokes, and the barking of the war dogs, still chained about the cars. Husbanding my ebbing strength, I no longer sought to fight, I strove only to reach the place where my family was in danger. Suddenly my horse, which had already sustained several wounds, received on the flank his death blow. The animal stumbled and rolled upon me. My leg and thigh, pierced with two lance thrusts, were caught as in a vise between the ground and the dead weight of my fallen steed. In vain I struggled to disengage myself. One of my comrades who, at the time of my fall, was following me, ran against the fallen horse. Steed and rider tumbled over the obstacle, and were instantly despatched by the blows of the legionaries. Our resistance became desperate. Corpse upon corpse piled up, both on top of and around me. More and more enfeebled by the loss of blood, overcome by the pains in my limbs, bruised under that heap of dead and dying, unable to make a motion, all sense left me; my eyes closed. Recalled to myself a moment later by the violent throbbing of my wounds, I opened my eyes again. The sight which met them at first made me believe I was seized with one of those frightful nightmares from which escape is vain. It was the horrible reality.

Twenty paces from me I saw the car in which my mother, Henory my wife, Martha the wife of Mikael, their children, and several young women and girls of the family had taken refuge. Several men of our kindred and tribe, who had run like myself to the cars, were defending them against the Romans. Among the defenders I saw the two saldunes, fastened to each other by the iron chain, the symbol of their pledge of brotherhood. Both were young, beautiful and valiant. Their clothes were in tatters, their heads and chests naked and bloody. But their eyes flashed fire, and a scornful smile played on their lips, as, armed only with their staffs, they fearlessly fought the Roman legionaries sheathed in iron, and the Cretans clad in jackets and thigh-pieces of leather. The large dogs of war, shortly unchained, leaped at the throats of their assailants, often bearing them over backwards with their furious dashes. Their terrible jaws not being able to pierce either helmet or breastplate, they devoured the faces of their victims, killing without once letting go their grips. The Cretan archers, almost without defensive armor, were snatched by the legs, arms, shoulders, anywhere. Each bite of these savage dogs carried away a chunk of bleeding flesh.