It was a mighty, a menacing spectacle. The tuba of the Romans blared to greet the standard of the commanding General. The Byzantines, in firmly closed ranks, advanced like a moving wall of bronze, their long lances levelled. Zazo saw that his men hesitated. "Forward! Cross the stream! On to the attack!"
He dashed on in advance of his troops. But he soon perceived that only a very few--the Gundings and their boar-helmeted kinsmen--were following. "Forward!" he commanded again. But the Vandals delayed. They felt that the rush down from the height had made their success far easier; they did not wish to leave the vantage-ground, and--they had seen Belisarius in the distance. The ranks of levelled lances, terrible, threatening, drew nearer and nearer.
"If we only had our spears!" cried voices in the ranks behind him. The Byzantines had already reached the stream; now they were wading through the marshy rivulet,--yet the Vandals on the heights did not obey the command to charge.
"You will not cross?" cried Zazo, furiously. "Then you must!" With these words he tore Genseric's dragon banner from the hand of the horseman at his right and shouting: "Bring back the standard and your honor!" he hurled it with all his strength across the stream into the midst of the Byzantines. Loud cries rose from friends and enemies.
One of the Byzantines instantly snatched the banner from the ground, raised it aloft, and was hurrying with it to Belisarius. But he did not go far. For when they saw the treasure of the kingdom in the hands of the foe, all the Vandals, on horseback and on foot, following their nobles, rushed down the slope into the stream and the midst of the enemy. By Zazo's side, on a powerful stallion, rode a strange figure,--a monk without helmet, shield, or breastplate; he wore a gray cowl and carried a sword. Breaking a passage through the hostile ranks, he reached the captor of the scarlet banner, tore it from his hand, and, with a single sword-stroke, cleft helmet and skull. It was Valerianus, the commander of the lance-bearers.
The victor swung the rescued standard high aloft, and instantly fell from his horse, pierced by five lances. But Gundobad, the Gunding, raised the banner from the hand of the sinking figure.
"Here, to the rescue," he shouted, "kinsmen of the Gundings! Here, you boars!"
Immediately his brother and the whole troop of boar helms gathered around him; the banner and its bearer were cut out for the moment. The ranks of the foe nearest to the Vandal banner wavered, yielded.
"Victory!" shouted the Vandals, pressing boldly forward, singing,--
"Forward to battle!