"Because most have sold the ancient weapons or exchanged them for jewels, wine, dainties, or female slaves; or else for arms that are mere ornaments and toys. I allow no one to enter the army with this rubbish; and before they are properly equipped, the victory and the Empire might be lost. But it is true: they can no longer carry Genseric's armor. They would fall in a short time. They are swearing because we are now in the very hottest months."
"Are we to tell the enemy that the Vandals fight only in the winter?" cried Zazo, laughing.
"Therefore to fill the ranks of our foot soldiers I have already obtained many thousand Moorish mercenaries," the King replied. "Of course these sons of the desert, variable, impetuous, changeful, like the sands of their home, are a poor substitute for German strength. But I have gained twenty chiefs with about ten thousand men."
"Is Cabaon, the graybeard of countless years, among them?" asked Gibamund.
"No, he delays his answer."
"It is a pity. He is the most powerful of them all! And his prophetic renown extends far beyond his tribe," observed Zazo.
"Well, we shall have better assistants than the Moorish robbers," said Gibamund, consolingly. "The brave Visigoths in Spain."
"Have you yet received an answer from their king?"
"Yes and no! King Theudis is shrewd and cautious. I urged upon him earnestly (I wrote the letter myself; I did not leave it to Verus) that Constantinople was not threatening us Vandals solely; that the imperial troops could easily cross the narrow straits from Ceuta, if we were once vanquished. I offered him an alliance. He answered evasively: he must first be sure of what we could accomplish in the war."
"What does he mean by that?" cried Zazo, angrily. "I suppose he wants to wait till the end of the conflict. Whether we conquer or are vanquished, we shall no longer need him!"