He ceased. All the Romans were confounded by the suddenly developed energy of the young King. Only Cethegus was at once resolved to prevent the review at any price. He saw the foundations of all his plans tottering. Gladly would he have come to the help of the regency, which was thus sinking before his very eyes, with all the weight of his oratory; he would have long since gladly crushed the bold efforts of the youth with his calm superiority, but a strange circumstance held his thoughts and tongue enchained as if in magic bonds.
He fancied he heard a noise behind the curtain, and fixed a keen look upon it. He soon remarked beneath it, for the fringes did not quite reach the ground, the feet of a man. But only as far up as the ankles.
Upon these ankles, however, were steel greaves of peculiar construction. He knew these greaves; he knew that they belonged to a full suit of armour of the same make; he knew also, by an instinctive connection of ideas, that the wearer of this armour was hateful and dangerous to him. But still it was impossible for him to say who this enemy was. If he could only have seen the greaves as far up as the knee!
His eyes wandered again and again to the same spot. Against his will his mind was occupied in guessing. And this circumstance kept his attention fixed, at a moment when everything was at stake. He was angry with himself, but he could not tear his thoughts and looks away from the niche.
Meanwhile the King continued without contradiction: "Further, we have recalled the noble Dukes Thulun, Ibba and Pitza, who have left our court in ill-will, from Gaul and Spain. We find that too many Romans and too few Goths surround us. These three brave warriors, together with Earl Witichis, will examine the defences of our kingdom, the fortresses and ships, and will discover and remedy all deficiencies. We expect them to arrive shortly."
"They must at once leave the place again," said Cethegus to himself; but his thoughts repeated, "not without reason is that man concealed behind the curtain."
"Further," resumed Athalaric, "we have ordered Mataswintha, our beautiful sister, to return to court. She was banished to Tarento because she refused to become the wife of an aged Roman. She shall return, the loveliest flower of our realm and an ornament to our court."
"Impossible!" cried Amalaswintha; "you attack the rights, not only of the Queen, but of the mother."
"I am the head of the family as soon as I am of age."
"My son, you know how feeble you were only a few weeks ago. Do you really believe that the Gothic warriors will declare you capable of bearing arms?"