A Struggle for Rome, v. 2

by Felix Dahn

These cowardly and insignificant men--for all the best had long since joined Cethegus or Belisarius were neither worthy of trust nor capable of dealing with Witichis and his friends.

Mataswintha cunningly tried to learn from the King and the Goths themselves, which of the Romans they held to be their most dangerous and powerful enemy; but in answer to such questions, she only heard one name, repeated again and again, and he who owned this name was beyond her reach in the Capitol of Rome--Cethegus the Prefect.

It was impossible for her to enter into communication with him. She could trust none of her Roman slaves with such an important mission as the bearing of a letter to Rome.

The clever and courageous Numidian, who fully shared the hatred of her beloved mistress to the rude barbarians, from whom she had always experienced contempt, had, in truth, offered, with much zeal, to find her way to Cethegus; but Mataswintha would not expose the girl to the perils of a journey through Italy during war-time. Therefore she was already reconciled to the thought that she must postpone her revenge until the march to Rome. But not the less zealously did she continue to inquire into the plans and stratagems of the Goths.

One day she was returning from the council of war, which had been held in the camp without the walls, in the King's tent; for, since the armament had approached its completion, and the Goths had been daily expecting the order to march, Witichis--partly to avoid Mataswintha--had left his rooms in the palace and taken up his abode among his warriors.

The Queen, accompanied only by Aspa, was walking slowly forward, pondering upon what she had just heard. She had avoided the press and noise of the inner camp, and pursued her way between a marshy arm of the river Padus to the left and the rows of white tents to the right. While she wandered on, noticing nothing, Aspa's sharp eyes were watching a group of Goths and Italians which surrounded the platform of a conjurer, who appeared, from the astonishment and laughter of the spectators, to be performing new and marvellous tricks.

Aspa lingered a little to see something of these wonders. The conjurer was a slender youth, a Celt, to judge by the dazzling white skin of his face and bare arms, and by his long yellow hair; but this supposition was belied by his coal-black eyes. And he really performed wonders in the eyes of his simple audience. Now he sprang up, turned over and over in the air, and fell, now on his hands, now on his feet. Then he seemed to devour glowing coals with great appetite, and in their place, to spit out coins; then he swallowed a dagger a foot long and afterwards drew it out of the back of his head, throwing it up in the air together with three or four others, and catching them in turn by the handle, to the great enjoyment of the spectators, who rewarded him with laughter and cries of admiration.

But Aspa had already lingered too long.

She looked after her mistress, and observed that her path was intercepted by a troop of Italian carriers and livery-servants, who evidently had not recognised the Queen, and who passed straight before her on their way to the river, joking and making a great disturbance. They appeared to be pointing and throwing stones at some object which Aspa could not distinguish.

She was just about to hurry after her mistress, when the conjurer upon the platform near her suddenly uttered a shrill cry. Aspa turned in affright, and saw the youth take an immense leap over the heads of the spectators, and rush at the Italians.