"Well done, friend Furius! At last on the right side, and against the barbarian King!"
"He must not escape alive!" growled the Corsican.
"What? How? He still lives! I thought that--he had fallen," said Cethegus hastily.
"No; they managed to rescue him after he was wounded."
"He must not live!" cried Cethegus. "Then you are right! It is of more importance than to win Taginæ. Narses can manage that heroic work from his litter. He has seventy to one. Up, Furius! Why do your horsemen stand idle here?"
"The animals cannot ride up the walls!"
"No; but they can swim. Up! take three hundred yourself, and give me three hundred. Two roads lead right and left from the little town over--no! they have broken down the bridges--they lead through the Clasius and the Sibola--let us take these roads. The wounded King is certainly--can he still fight?"
"Hardly."
"Then he has fled beyond Taginæ--to Rome or--"
"No; to his bride!" cried Furius. "Most certainly to Valeria in the cloister. Ha! I will stab him in her very arms! Up, Persians! follow me. Thanks, Prefect! Take as many horsemen as you like. And ride to the right--I will ride to the left round the town; for both roads lead to the cloister."