Sónnica la cortesana. English

by Vicente Blasco Ibáñez

  CHAPTER VI

  ASBYTE AND HANNIBAL

  Hannibal lay tossing between the bright-hued coverings of his couch,unable to conciliate sleep.

  The cocks had announced midnight, breaking the silence of the camp withtheir shrill voices, and the chieftain was yet awake, closing his eyesthough unable to sleep. His rest was disturbed by the singing of anightingale perched in a great tree from the branches of which hung histent.

  An earthenware lamp illuminated the mass of objects strewn carelesslyaround his bed. On the floor glistened cuirasses, greaves, and helmets,over which were thrown rich fabrics stolen from the Saguntine villas.Grecian furniture, delicately wrought toilette amphorae, tapestries withmythological scenes, lay in a heap mingled with rawhide whips, shieldsof hippopotamus hide, and the rags of Hannibal's personal costume, for,though a lover of glittering arms, he was careless and dirty in hisdress. Elegant Grecian vases he put to the vilest uses. An alabastercrater covered by a shield served as a seat; a huge terra cotta vase,decorated by a Grecian artist with the adventures of Achilles, theAfrican scornfully used in a manner calculated to express the height ofhis contempt for refinement. Pieces of statues and columns destroyedduring the tempest of invasion were sunk in the ground, making seatsfor Hannibal's captains when a council was held in the chieftain's tent.It was the spoil of war, looted and thrown about in a fever of robbery.Only a small portion of it had reached the chief, who felt absolutescorn for artistic beauty except when stamped on precious metals. Hesneered at the gods of this land as he did at those of his own countryand of the world; he spat upon the marble forms of divinities whichfilled the camp, as if they were scraps of worthless stone, good fornothing but to be hurled by a catapult against the enemy.

  Impelled by nervous excitement, which prevented his sleeping, he raisedup in his couch, and the lamplight shone full upon his face. He was nolonger the Celtiberian shepherd, dishevelled and ferocious, whom Actaeonhad met in the port of Saguntum. Divested of his disguise he showed whathe was--a young man of medium height, with strong and well proportionedlimbs, without display of exaggerated muscles, but revealing in his bodythe temper of steel, a vitality capable in supreme moments of the moststupendous achievements. His face was slightly bronzed, and his hair layaround his head in thick short curls like a black and lustrous turban,completely covering his forehead, and leaving exposed the lobes of hisears, from which hung great discs of bronze. His beard was thick andcurly; his nose straight and somewhat prominent, and his eyes, large andimperious, always looked sidewise, with an expression of profoundastuteness and unapproachable reserve. His muscular neck was habituallybent, inclining his head toward the right, as if to more clearly catchthe sounds around him.

  He wore a simple, dirty, and threadbare sagum, like any one of thoseCeltiberians who lay snoring in the tents roundabout, and, as a sign ofcommand, there shone on his wrists two broad golden bracelets, whichadded strength by their confinement of the tendons and muscles of thearm.

  For more than a month he had been before the walls of Saguntum withoutachieving any advantage. He had spent the whole of that afternoondirecting his engines of war without result, and now in his solitudethis want of success irritated his nerves, and dispelled his sleep. Thepetted child of victory, he had conquered in open fight the most savagetribes of Iberia; he had dragged his elephants over the crests of loftymountains, crossing rivers, breaking trails through forests, seeingwarlike hordes fall prostrate before him as if he were a god, but now,for the first time in his life he encountered a stubborn enemy, whichbehind sheltering walls mocked at him and would not suffer him toadvance a step.

  The city of merchants and farmers which he had studied from within,looking scornfully upon its opulence and effeminacy, threatened to breakthe current of his good luck, and, finding it indomitable, andreflecting upon his enemies in Carthage, upon the wrath of Rome, andrealizing that time was passing while he was making no headway, thechieftain experienced a gust of anxiety.

  He had chosen well the vulnerable point of Saguntum. His engines of warwere placed before the lower part of the city where the walls projectedinto the valley, upon an open, level plain, which permitted the advanceof the battering-rams; but scarcely had the hundreds of naked men whodragged the heavy machines come within range than such a shower ofarrows fell about them that those who were not pinned to the ground hadto flee for their lives.

  Sometimes, under cover of the mantelets, which advanced on wheels, andthrough the loopholes of which the Carthaginian bowmen shot, theymanaged to get the battering-rams to the foot of the wall, but whilethat part of the city was the most exposed to attack, the ramparts whichin the upper portion of Saguntum were of adobe had here a stony rockbase, and in vain the bronze rams'-heads which formed the ends of thebeams, pounded and pounded, operated by hundreds of arms. Showers ofarrows and stones fell upon the besiegers, breaking the shields whichcovered them. A great tower dominated the whole area around theassailants, sowing death among them without exposure to the besieged,and not content with this, under the impulse of their passion, theyfrequently sprang forth from behind the ramparts, knifing theCarthaginians.

  Each of these sallies cost Hannibal's army severe losses. The Africanshad begun to tell with superstitious dread of a naked giant, wearing alion's skin, and brandishing a tree-trunk, who charged at the head ofthe Saguntines, and at each blow ploughed a broad furrow through theassailants. The Ethiopians saw in him a terrible and sanguinarydivinity, like those which they worshipped in their oases; theCeltiberians declared that it was Hercules, descended from Olympus toprotect the city.

  Hannibal recognized him in the battles from afar. It was Theron, thepriest whom he had seen one morning on the Acropolis, and whoseextraordinary vigor he had admired. But in spite of knowing his humanorigin, he could not overcome the terror of the troops at the instantwhen they saw towering above all the helmets that invulnerable lion'shead which seemed to change the course of the arrows and stones.

  Moreover the besieged counted on the assistance of the phalaric. It waswell known that among the merchants and agriculturists there figured menexpert in war, who had traveled through many lands. The memory of hisboyhood companion, Actaeon, the Greek adventurer, surged throughHannibal's mind. He, surely, must be the introducer of the phalaric, adart wrapped in tow and dipped in pitch. The shaft sped blazing throughthe air like a stream of fire, with its long iron head capable ofpiercing the shield and the cuirass, and even if the terrible missileshould not penetrate the armor, its flames set fire to the clothing; thecombatants threw down their arms to put out the fire, and thus stoodexposed to the blows of the enemy. The same warriors who had foughtagainst the most determined and barbaric tribes of Iberia, flung awaytheir shields and fled before those meteors of fire which came from thewalls of Saguntum whistling and scattering sparks.

  Thus time passed; the besiegers gained nothing, and Hannibal wasdominated by a galling impatience. Fire of Baal! He, chained to thesewalls which he could not make his own, while Hanno's faction wasconspiring in Carthage, preparing the downfall of the Barcas if heshould fail in taking Saguntum; planning, perhaps, his delivery to Romewhen she should demand him on finding her treaties violated. In despairhe threw himself back once more upon his couch, seeking the oblivion ofsleep with the eagerness of one who must needs forget. He blew out thelight, but lay open-eyed in the darkness. The bluish glint of the moonfiltered through an opening in the cupola of his tent, shimmering uponthe cuirasses which in the darkness shone like phosphorescent fishes.Outside, the nightingale continued singing.

  Hannibal grew frantic. Accursed bird that was keeping him awake! Hecould sleep in the din of battle! Accustomed from boyhood to the camp,the hoarse songs of the mercenaries and the whinnying of horses wouldfail to arouse him, and the harsh trumpet-blast of war had been hislullaby. But the sweet song of that bird, its incessant melodious trill,annoyed him like the buzzing of a hornet.

  He sprang from his couch; he groped in the dark amid the litter of arms,fabrics, and furni
ture; he burst out through the doorway of his tent,and the fresh night soothed his tempestuous spirit.

  The moon was shining in a cloudless sky; the breeze was warm, althoughit was the end of autumn; stars scintillated; the nightingale's trillswere answered by another and yet another bird, throughout the expanse ofthe valley. The camp lay at rest. The flames were flickering out fromdying bonfires near which soldiers were sleeping along with women andchildren of the army, wrapped in rags and in rich stolen fabrics; thehorses picketed to the ground, pointed their nodding heads in a straightline; in the distance, the beleaguered city crouched dark and silent asif asleep, but a faint glow escaping through loopholes in its wallsproduced the effect of half-open eyes watching while feigning sleep.

  Hannibal leaped over the trusted soldiers who slept near the door of histent. They raised up as they heard his footsteps, but recognizing thechief, lay down on the ground again and continued snoring. They wereveterans from Hamilcar's wars, who looked with almost religiousveneration on the lion cub of their old captain.

  As he turned the corner of the tent he drew his bow to shoot at the birdhidden in the foliage; but he started in surprise on seeing a whitefigure standing near the trunk of the tree, shining in the moonlight.

  It was a woman, an Amazon. On her head and on her breast glistened thehelmet of gold and the cuirass of scales; her white linen tunic fellover her limbs, outlining her form, and her strong bare arms wereresting on her lance with its shoe driven into the ground. Her dark eyeswere fastened on Hannibal's tent with strange, unblinking persistence,as if she were dreaming awake, and the night-wind lightly swayed herfloating hair. Behind her stood a black horse with glossy coat, nervouslegs, and eyes injected with blood, destitute of saddle or bridle, hismane unbound; he was bending down to lick the border of the Amazon'stunic and her nude feet, like a dog which followed her everywhere.

  "Asbyte!" exclaimed Hannibal, surprised at the apparition. "What are youdoing here?"

  The queen of the Amazons seemed to awake, and seeing the chief, shefixed on him the moist and impassioned gaze of her large eyes.

  "I could not sleep," she said with a voice languid and measured. "Ispent the first part of the night dreaming horrible dreams. The GoddessTanith will not guard my repose, and I have seen the shade of my fatherIarbas announcing my approaching death."

  "Death!" exclaimed Hannibal, laughing. "Who thinks of death?"

  "Am I then immortal? Do I not fight like any one of your soldiers? Ihurl myself impetuously through forests of lances; feathered shafts hissaround me like a trailing mantle of invisible birds; I scorn thephalarics with their streams of fire--but some day I shall die; mydreams foretell it."

  Asbyte, as if fearing to show too great melancholy in the presence ofHannibal, added bitterly:

  "Let death come when it will! It does not frighten me as it does themerchants of Carthage who hate you. If it disturbed my sleep it wasbecause when I awoke I thought of you. I cannot explain to myself why Ithought that you also might die, and to your death, Hannibal, I cannotbe resigned. You should live long like a god. I knew that you sleepalone in your tent; that, to better conceal your movements you keep noguards to watch while you slumber, and I felt the need of doingsomething for you, of spending the night leaning on my lance near yourcouch to prevent the treachery of an enemy."

  "What madness!" exclaimed the African, laughing.

  "Hannibal," said the beautiful Amazon gravely, "remember Hasdrubal, thehusband of your sister. The dagger of a slave was enough to put an endto him."

  "Hasdrubal was doomed to die," said the chieftain, with the convictionof fatalism. "The fate of Carthage demanded his death. It was necessarythat Hasdrubal should succumb to make way for Hannibal. But Hannibal hasno one to replace him, and he shall live even though he were to sleepsurrounded by enemies. My sleep is light and my arm is sure; he whoslips into the tent of Hannibal enters his tomb."

  Asbyte contemplated with loving admiration the young hero, who had flungdown his bow, and while he spoke of his strength he raised his powerfularms, and the moon enlarged their shadow in such wise that as they movedhe seemed to embrace the camp, the city, the whole valley, like asupernatural being.

  The Amazon drew near leaning her lance against the trunk of a tree. Onlaying down her weapon she seemed to throw off her warlike mien, and sheapproached Hannibal with feminine sweetness, gazing upon him with themoist, timid eyes of the antelopes that frisk about the oases of hernative land.

  "Besides," she murmured, "I came because I needed to be near you. Toguard your sleep gives me indescribable joy. I feel the delight of anexalting sacrifice in keeping vigil over you when you know it not. Inever have an opportunity to speak with you. By day I see you onhorseback among the Carthaginians with their golden armor, who flockaround you; on foot directing those who push the engines of war, helpingthem, often, to excite their enthusiasm; but I see you always from afar,as a chieftain, as a hero, never as a man. Do you remember those days inthe citadel of New Carthage when I had just arrived from Africa with thereinforcements which caused you to utter shouts of enthusiasm?"

  "Asbyte! Asbyte!" murmured Hannibal, repelling her with a movement ofhis arms, as if the recollection annoyed him.

  "Do not be angry, Hannibal; listen to me. I must speak to you. Give meat least the consolation of seeing you near, of telling you what I feel.If not, why have I come to Iberia, joining my fate to yours?"

  The chieftain glanced around, as if fearing that someone might belistening to his conversation with the Amazon.

  "Fear not," said Asbyte, divining his thought. "Mago, your brother,sleeps far from here with Maherbal, the favorite captain. My Numidiansare at the opposite end of the camp. You surround yourself only withIberians in order to encourage their fidelity with such a proof ofconfidence, and they do not understand Phoenician."

  Reassured by Asbyte's answer, Hannibal lowered his head and crossed hisarms, resigned to listen.

  "You are as hard and disdainful as a god," sighed the Amazon. "The womanwho loves you feels within her the fire of Moloch, and you will notdeign to quench it even with a glance of kindness, nor with a smile. Youhave a heart of bronze; your eyes ever gaze aloft, and you cannot seethose who crawl to approach you. You imagine that you have made me happybecause you lead me from battle to battle, from conquest to conquest,and you consider that my happiness consists in having my hands, whichused to be adorned with rings, calloused by the lance; my face, which inother times was covered with costly unguents brought from Egypt by mycaravans, hardened by the cheek-pieces of the helmet. I have become rudeand fierce like a man. Though I possess gardens far away where aneternal springtime dwells, I have suffered hunger and thirst at yourside. I know not who I am; I doubt my sex, seeing my body made ugly byfatigue. My skin, over which the hands of my slaves used to slip as ifit were a mirror, is now as hard as that of a crocodile. If I do notseem as hideous as the troop of wasted females which follows yoursoldiers it is because my youth has not forsaken me. And all this forwhom? For you who will not deign to look at me; for you who haveforgotten our first meeting; for you who see in Asbyte only a goodfriend, an esteemed ally, who came to you bringing a strong array offighters. Hannibal! Lightning-flash of Baal! You are as great as ademigod, but you do not know human beings. You see in me only an Amazon,a warrior virgin like those of whom the Grecian poets sing--but I am awoman!"

  Asbyte sadly and silently searched the face of the pensive Hannibal.

  "You have forgotten, perhaps, how we met," she added, presently, withmelancholy tone. "I dwelt happy in my oasis until I rushed to your side,drawn by some irresistible charm that emanates from your person. I, thedaughter of Iarbas the Garamantan, wearied of the comforts of my house,of the songs of my slaves, and of the splendors which the merchantsflung from the caravans at my feet, went into the desert hunting lionswith Iarbas, and the warriors marveled when the most savage coltstrembled, obedient and timid, as soon as they felt me on their backs. Iwas strong, and I was beautiful. Scarcely had I grown
out of my girlhoodthan the bravest of the Numidian sheikhs came seeking hospitality of myfather that they might see me, and they told of their flocks and oftheir warriors, proposing an alliance to Iarbas. And I, indifferent,cold, kept my thoughts ever on Carthage where I once had been incompany with my father to adjust the tribute with the rich men of theSenate. Ah, the magnificent city, the immense city, with her temples ashuge as towns and her gigantic gods!"

  Wandering from the trend of her ideas, she fell into enthusiasticreminiscence of Carthage, the great city which after all her travels andwarlike adventures was still a vivid memory. She called to mind thedwellings of the rich Carthaginians, with their polychrome wallsfinished by brilliant spheres of metal and of glass; the great marbletemples, with their mysterious groves through which resounded the lyresand cymbals of the priests; the temple of Tanith surrounded by rosegardens, perfumed hiding places which served as shelters for the sacredphallic rites in honor of the goddess; and then the port, the immenseport, with a whole city of ships which poured into the metropolis acontinual stream of riches from all over the world, tin from Brittania,copper from Italy, silver from Iberia, gold from Ophir, frankincensefrom Saba, amber from northern seas, purple from Tyre, ebony and ivoryfrom Ethiopia, spices and pearls from India, and brilliant fabrics fromnameless and mysterious peoples of Asia who dwelt at the uttermostborders of the world, wrapped in the mists of legend.

  She adored the city, not only for its splendors, but far more because itharbored partisans of the Barcas, the supporters of the heroic familywhose deeds the Numidian warriors recounted in the moonlight, and ofwhom Hannibal, who added renown to his name in the wars of Iberia whenstill a boy, was the glorious descendant.

  "My people ever loved your people," continued the Amazon. "If my fatherIarbas submitted to the domination of Carthage, it was because at thehead of it was Hamilcar, an African, a Numidian like ourselves. I hatethe Carthaginian merchants as bitterly as you do--those ancientPhoenicians from the rock-bound Aradus who prospered and reproducedlike worms, afterwards to cross the sea and take possession of ourbeautiful soil of Africa. I hate the ship figured upon so many of yourcoins and temples, because it is the sign of the avaricious people whocame to exploit us, but I adore the Carthaginian charger, the Numidianhorse, the symbol of our past."

  Then she spoke of the charm which the glory of the Barcas had exercisedover her mind from afar. She had loved Hannibal without realizing it,influenced by tales of his achievements which had reached her ears. Sheimagined him fighting like a young lion at his father's side, amongherds of bulls with flaming horns, and among burning chariots which theIberians drove against the Carthaginian invader; she thought of him, madwith fury, before the body of Hamilcar, and then languishing frominaction beside the beautiful Hasdrubal, conciliatory and pacific, untilthe moment when, his brother being assassinated by the dagger of a Gaul,the whole army acclaimed the youth as chieftain.

  Her father Iarbas had just died, and she, now become queen of hertribes, heard that Hannibal, thirsting for glory and for combat, wasisolated in the fortress of New Carthage, with no other troops than theremnant of the army which Hamilcar had taken to Iberia. The rich ofCarthage, enemies of the Barcas, fearing the populace, dared notdeprive Hamilcar's son of the chieftancy which his soldiers tenderedhim; they confirmed it by their silence, but they kept him isolated,without resources, left to his own devices, so that the natives shouldput an end to him, or at the most, that he might conquer a smallterritory on the Iberian coast in which the ambition of the Barcas wouldgradually become extinguished.

  "Then I flew to your side," continued Asbyte. "I wished to know the manand to save the hero. I turned over a great part of my riches to themerchants of Carthage for the loan of their ships; I kindled theenthusiasm of the most warlike of my tribes to follow me; even theirdaughters imitated me, and went lion hunting, galloping all day long,lance in hand, drawn on by my mad adventure, and one afternoon, whenperhaps you were weeping, believing your hopes of glory dead, you beheldfrom the height of the citadel of New Carthage a whole fleet coming fromAfrica. Do you remember? Tell me! Do you remember how you received me?"

  "Yes, and I shall never forget it," said Hannibal gently. "Those daysare my happiest memory."

  "You received me as if I were a divinity, as if Ashtoreth, who illuminesour nights had descended from the sky to give you her protection. Youwere oblivious to my warriors and saw only me, and scorning yourambitions for the moment we spent the nights lying on the terrace of thecitadel, and the stars were witnesses to our interminable embraces. But,alas! that joy was like the roses from Egypt which last but a day in thevases of the rich women of Carthage. Soon the pride of conquestreturned to you, the ambition of the chieftain. You admired the trainingof my Numidians more than my beauty when, of an afternoon, outside thewalls they astounded your old warriors by hurling darts while kneelingon their horses, which ran so fast that they raised the dust with theirbellies. We went out to fight with the Olcades, the Vaccaei, all thoseIberian tribes which yesterday you fought and which to-day follow you.Led by you I fought like a soldier, and I considered myself happy whenon the long marches, imitating our horses which lovingly put their headstogether, you bent toward me, striking your helmet against mine to kissme. Finally--not even that! What am I? One warrior more in your camp; afriend worthy of gratitude, who brought you assistance on seeing youabandoned by Carthage, with no other force than a handful of veteransand some elephants. In the battles if you see me in danger you fly todefend me; but afterwards, in the camp, on the long marches, a few wordsof friendship, a cold smile as to any one of your captains. Your hearthas closed against me. Am I not Asbyte, she whom you knew in NewCarthage? Do you not love me when you see me made ugly and hardened bywar? Tell me that, and I will become a woman again, I will bedeck myselfwith jewels, I will abandon my Amazons and surround myself with Greekslaves, I will cover myself with ointments which will change my skinback to its pristine freshness, and I will follow you on your marcheslying on a litter with curtains of purple."

  "No!" Hannibal made haste to reply, with enthusiasm. "I love you as youare. The beloved of Hannibal can only be an Amazon like yourself, whohave made many warriors fall beneath your charger."

  "Then why do you flee from me? Why do you abandon me, why forget thesweetness of our early love? See that nightingale, at which a moment agoyou aimed your arrow! In the midst of an army camp, before a besiegedcity, it sings and sings, calling to its mate, heedless of the horrorsof war, unconscious of the stench of blood which rises from thesefields. Let us be like him! Let us make war; but let us also love eachother, and let us ride through the battles with our bodies thrilled withlove!"

  "No, Asbyte," said the African gloomily. "That felicity is impossible; Ilove you, but we cannot understand each other. You complain because Isee in you only an Amazon, when you are a woman; you, in return, see inme only a man, and I am more than man. I am not the demigod you imagine;I am something more; I am a formidable machine of war, without heart orsense of pity, created only to crush men and nations who obstruct mypassage."

  Hannibal said this with conviction, beating his firm chest,straightening his figure with sombre majesty as he declared hisdestructive power.

  "I would love you if I were a man capable of wasting my time in suchsweet folly, but when have you seen the eagle spend all his time in thenest caressing his mate, without desire to soar aloft and fall upon thequarry? Those who have talons cannot caress, and I was born to make preyof the world, or else for the world to crush me. Love? A sweetoccupation, I grant you! In the past, full of blood and of battles, theonly oases of my joy were those days in New Carthage when I believedthat Tanith herself, with all her divine beauty, had deigned to comedown to my arms. But that is over; Hannibal has other loves that attracthim and dominate him; he loves his sword, he loves all that the enemypossesses, and he cannot sleep with tranquility for thinking of Rome,whom he desires to crush within these arms! How far away she is!"

  The Amazon made a gesture of de
spair at the passion with which thechieftain declared his ambitions.

  "You might complain," continued Hannibal, "if you saw that my thoughtswere filled with the image of another woman. Whom have I loved but you?To draw to me those barbarians who follow me, to league them by ties ofblood to my enterprises, I took to wife the daughter of an Iberiankinglet. Yes, and where is she? Does she follow me as do you? Sheremains in New Carthage, spinning her gay-colored wools, and shescarcely thinks of me, because never for a moment did the charms of thebarbarian virgin move me. I love only you. Hannibal can fall tremulouswith passion only into arms like yours, hardened by use of the lance.But be worthy of him! Think not as do other women; seek not new lovers;unite yourself to me, so that both together we can think of possessingand of hating, of making the world ours!"

  As if exalted by his own words, the African, with glowing eyes,approached Asbyte, caressing her arms, while he breathed in her face hisambitious plans.

  "I must be lord of the world! I want Carthage, only Carthage, to existupon the earth, because Carthage is my native land! Had I been born aRoman, Rome should be mistress! With my name I mean to obliterate thememory of Alexander the Macedonian, to be greater than he, to conquerwider territories, and I dream of undertakings less easy than dominatingthe Asiatics, weakened by the softening tendency of the sun and ofriches. Rome is sturdy, she is stronger than our republic of merchantscorroded by avarice and pleasure; her hands are calloused by the plowhandle and the lance--then against Rome am I headed! Alexander! How weakis his glory! It is easy to march to the conquest of the world when oneis the son of Philip, who leaves as inheritance an army seasoned by ahundred victories, when one has an obedient kingdom at one's back, andeven in childhood has the good fortune to receive instruction fromAristotle. The difficult thing is to be Hannibal, abandoned by mycountry, with no other resources than those I can find for myself;having to face at the same time the fury of the enemy and the treacheryand intrigue of my fellow countrymen, reared far from my father, amongastute merchants who, keeping me as hostage, sought to avoid futuredanger by diverting my warlike instincts; with no other culture than alittle Greek which Sosilon the Spartan taught me; but despite all this,Hannibal wars with fate, and he is conquering. If Alexander is admiredfor his conquests in the land of the rising sun, some day the world willbe startled at seeing me, after having crushed men, dominating Natureherself by crossing the loftiest glaciers and changing the positions ofmountains to continue on my way. Look at me well, Asbyte, and you willbe convinced that it is as useless to try to arouse human sentiments inmy heart as to soften the breast of the enormous bronze Moloch which wehave in Carthage! A moment ago, in the solitude of my tent, I felt weakand disheartened, but talking with you revives my strength. Look at mewell; you are in the presence of one who fears neither men nor gods!"

  "The gods!" exclaimed Asbyte with a throb of terror. "Do you not fearthat they will punish you?"

  A peal of laughter, sarcastic, tinged with deep scorn, answered theAmazon.

  "The gods!" exclaimed Hannibal. "I live among warriors of all nations.Each one adores his own gods, and I know so many, so many, that I do notbelieve in any of them, and I jest at them all. In Carthage I adoredMoloch; here you have often seen me dedicate sacrifices to the Iberiandivinities, to attract the people to me. If some day I enter as aconqueror that city where my thought continually dwells, the populaceshall acclaim me, seeing me climb to the Capitol to offer thanks totheir gods. I believe only in force and strategy. I have but onetutelary god--war, who makes giants of men, giving them the omnipotenceof divinity. If on becoming lord of the earth, I find no one with whomto fight, I shall die, thinking the world empty!"

  The Amazon bowed her head, overcome with sadness.

  "I realize now that you will never be mine, Hannibal! You love war aboveall things else, and will be faithful to it as long as you live. You areindeed a bird of prey; the momentary love of a slave woman satisfiesyou; the wounded and weeping woman who falls into the power of yoursoldiers as they enter a city through a breach in its walls satiatesyou. You will never understand love and its sweetness."

  Hannibal shrugged his shoulders scornfully.

  "I love victory, success! The laurel which Greek heroes bound upon theirbrows in the triumph has for me a more penetrating perfume than theroses of the poets. Cease your laments, Asbyte; be a warrior, and forgetthat you are a woman; I will love you more. You shall be my brother inarms. Why think of those nights of love when I was still in misfortuneand lacking in soldiers, now that all Iberia follows me and I see mydreams of world-power beginning to be realized? Look over this camp,where infinite tongues are spoken, and where each tribe dresses in adifferent costume. They flow in like streams which swell the torrent.Each day new warriors appear. How many are they? No one knows. Maherbalsaid yesterday that there were a hundred and twenty thousand; I believethat soon there will be a hundred and eighty thousand. Blind faith inHannibal draws them on; they feel that with me they march to victory;perhaps their gods have told them that this is but the beginning of aseries of achievements which will astound the world. Ponder over it,Asbyte! These peoples have spent their lives fighting among themselves;they hated each other, and yet the sword of Hannibal is a shepherd'scrook which guides them like a common flock; and after this miraclewould you have me waste my time loving you, staying in my tent lying atyour feet, my head upon your knees, listening to you while you sing thedreamy songs of the oasis? No! Lightning of Baal! The city stands beforeus, mocking at the greatest army ever gathered together on the fields ofIberia, and this must stop. The hempen tent must crush the tower ofstone. Sharpen well your lance, daughter of Iarbas; prepare yourfaithful steed, my beloved! That mysterious breeze which I alwaysperceive on the eve of a victory blows around me. This very day we shallenter Saguntum."

  He glanced to the east as if impatient for the coming of dawn.

  The moon shone less clearly; the sky darkened, its blue becoming moredense, and on the side toward the sea a broad belt of violet lightappeared.

  "It will soon be morning," continued the African. "This night, Asbyte,you shall sleep in the ivory couch of some rich Greek woman, and youshall have at your feet the Elders of the city to serve you as slaves."

  "No, Hannibal. This day which is now beginning will never end for me. Istill see the shade of Iarbas, as it appeared to me before the firstcock-crow. I shall die, Hannibal!"

  "Die! Can you believe that? Before the enemy reaches you he must passover Hannibal's body. You are my brother in arms! _I_ will be at yourside!"

  "Even so, I must die. My father cannot deceive me."

  "Are you afraid? Are you trembling, daughter of the Garamantan? Ah, atlast the woman! Stay in your tent! Do not approach the walls! I will goand seek you when the moment arrives for you to enter the city like alady!"

  Asbyte straightened her graceful figure as if she had just received alashing. Her large eyes glowed with anger.

  "I will leave you, Hannibal. Day is beginning to dawn. Make preparationfor the assault, and you will find me ready when your troops give thesignal. Knowing that I am going to die, I wish to ask you for one kiss,the last--No, do not approach me. I do not want it now; it would do meharm. If I fall and you can find me among the slain, you will know whatmy last thought has been."

  Leaning on her lance she moved away between the rows of tents, followedby the black horse, which sniffed at her footprints in faithfuldevotion.

  Day was breaking. The camp fires were nearly extinguished, and aroundthe dying embers the men could be seen arising from the ground,stretching their benumbed limbs, and shaking out the pieces of cloth inwhich they had been wrapped. Horses whinnied, tugging at their stakeropes, and the soldiers set them free, driving them to the river towater and clean them.

  Along every road huge carts were approaching the camp laden withprovisions and forage, and the creaking of their axles mingled with thesongs of the soldiers, who had arisen in good spirits and recalled theirdistant homes, singing in their native tong
ues.

  It was a confusion of voices and cries. Each tribe camped by itself; onepeople greeted the other with joyous shouts. From every side floatedodors of naked, sweaty flesh, and of strange stews boiling in the pots;the hammers of the carpenters echoed loudly as they worked upon thesiege-engines which would soon be hurling stones and darts against thewalls. Warriors in flowing mantles, mounted on prancing steeds, gallopedbetween the city and the camp, examining the battlements of Saguntum,reddened by the sun's first rays, where the defenders were beginning tostir among the merlons. Hannibal with uncovered head was sitting on aremnant of a wall, the ruin of a villa demolished by the besiegers, alsostudying the city.

  He was resolved to begin the attack as soon as his army had finishedmaking the morning preparations. Fifteen hundred Africans, armed withpickaxes, were gathering on the outskirts of the camp. They were goingto attack that portion of the city which threw its ramparts into thelevel, open plain, thereby permitting unobstructed approach to its base.In other divisions of the camp the Celtiberian infantry was forming withlong ladders to attempt the walls on many sides at once. The engines ofwar advanced, the catapults, with the thick bow tightly drawn by elasticcords, ready to fling the stone deposited in the groove of the long arm;the battering-rams vibrating on their chains as they moved. Thewalking-towers, light, with walls of interlaced osiers, trundled uponmassive disks crowned by the shields of the besiegers who concealedthemselves behind them to hurl their missiles.

  Hannibal hurried to his tent, passing between the cavalrymen who weredeliberately grooming their horses and polishing their weapons, knowingthat they were not to take part in the assault until the last moment.The chieftain armed himself lightly. He put on a short lorica of bronzescales, adjusted his helmet, selected a shield, and on leaving his tenthe met Maherbal and his brother Mago, in charge of the reserves whoremained in the camp.

  "Your legs are unprotected," said his brother. "Are you not going tocover them with greaves?"

  "No," replied the chieftain spiritedly. "We are going to make anassault, and to climb over the fallen walls one must have his legs free.The missiles will respect me as ever."

  As he walked out of the camp he thought he saw the queen of the Amazonsstanding between two tents, following him with saddened eyes; butAsbyte, when her gaze met Hannibal's, moved away and turned her backupon him haughtily.

  Trumpets blew, and the army stirred, marching against the city.

  The mantelets rolled forward, veritable parapets of wood, through theinterstices of which the bowmen shot. Under cover of these portablebulwarks the Africans armed with pickaxes advanced, while in otherdirections throughout the valley hurried the Celtiberians, carryingtheir ladders in front of them.

  In an instant the walls were manned with defenders. Over the merlonsappeared sinewy arms hurling missiles, slings swirled dischargingstones, and bows bent followed by sharp hisses.

  Hannibal, to animate the assailants, marched behind the fifteen hundredAfricans, laughing at the projectiles which struck the wooden sides ofthe mantelets. Several nights, dragging himself on his belly, and at therisk of being taken prisoner, he had reached the foot of that rampartwhich projected on the valley side, and which formed the strongest wallof the city. The base was composed of great stones laid in clay. Thechieftain being convinced that it was difficult to scale the walls,decided to open a breach through the foundation by undermining thereddish rampart before which his army had been confounded.

  As they drew near it the Africans abandoned the shelter of the manteletsand hurled themselves furiously against the barrier of enormous stones.Naked, black, shouting, raising and lowering their muscular arms whichended in glittering iron-pointed pickaxes, they looked like infernalspirits sent by the Cabiric gods of Carthage for the destruction of thecity. Stubborn and tenacious in their work of destruction, they growledand picked, insensible to the blows which fell from above.

  The beleaguered people, infuriated by this audacity, scorned theBalearic slingers and archers who from a distance aimed over themerlons, and stepping into the crenels they cast down missiles andstones which, falling vertically, never failed to claim their victims.The Africans tumbled over with broken heads or crushed backs; arms andlegs snapped like reeds beneath the weight of the stones, and more thanone assailant was pinned to the ground by a dart which passed throughhis back. Over the palpitating bodies, the mangled flesh, the bloodmixed with the clay from the walls, rushed fresh assailants, graspingthe pickaxes from the hands of the dying, and taking up the work ofdestruction, pounding on the wall, beating it furiously as if it were anenemy standing before them. Africans, Celtiberians, Gauls, men of allcolors and races crowded together, each cursing in his own language,frothing at the mouth with fury, with death hovering above them everyinstant, and surrounded by a din of howls and lamentations. Tormented byfalling stones and blazing phalarics which set fire to their clothingand clung to their naked flesh, roasting them until they writhed inagony, they rushed to the river like animated torches.

  Now a block in the wall was giving way! Now it rolled out of place! Themost important thing was to remove the first; after it the others wouldfollow. The besiegers burst into exclamations of savage joy; they heardHannibal's voice encouraging them; but before raising their heads torest a moment, a deafening howl arose among them. It was raining, butraining fiery, infernal drops which penetrated the bodies of the menlike interminable knives. Up there on the walls a fire was smoking. Themerchants were melting the great ingots of silver from their vaults,pouring the molten metal like a rain of death upon those who dareddestroy the city walls.

  The assailants fell back, roaring with fury, and sought refuge behindthe mantelets. Hannibal raised his sword, striving with his blows toforce them back to work, but in vain he exhorted them, haranguing ofvictory and of the necessity of destroying the wall; his soldiersretreated without turning their backs, looking with respect at thechieftain who seemed invulnerable, but complaining of the atrocioustorment of the burns. Some wallowed on the ground kicking with pain,their lips covered with foam.

  Suddenly it seemed as if the city had burst, hurling its inhabitantsforth in all directions. In the distance the Celtiberians were seen toflee, flinging away their ladders. The populace rushed out en masseagainst the besiegers. The gates were too narrow to allow passage to thearmed multitude which swirled through them and then spread out in alldirections like a torrent which, having run boxed in between mountains,suddenly inundates the plain. Many impatient ones swung from the merlonsto fall more quickly upon the enemy.

  In a moment the whole space intervening between the walls and the campwas covered by attacking Saguntines and by fleeing besiegers. Hannibalfelt himself dragged by the flight of his soldiers. The mantelets beganto burn, and a crowd of women and boys, grasping torches, encircled thewalking-towers, setting fire to their osier walls.

  The Saguntines, forming in phalanxes, advanced, sweeping before them thebesiegers who fled in disorder. Before its movable front of pikes and ofarms flourishing broadswords, nothing could be seen but fugitive men whoflung away their arms and leaped into the air pierced by arrows andlances.

  The giant Theron came out in solitary majesty, as if he alone were aphalanx. The lion skin, and his enormous stature, attracted the gaze ofall. His club rose and fell, crashing into the groups of fugitives andopening great swaths through their ranks.

  "It is Hercules!" the besiegers shouted, with superstitious terror. "Thegod of Saguntum has come out against us!"

  The presence of the giant accelerated the dispersion even more than theblows of the Saguntines.

  Hannibal tried to advance, to face about; in vain he lifted up hisvoice, brandishing his sword. He was swept by the torrent of flight; hisown soldiers crowded him along, blinded by the contagion of terror; theytramped on his heels, they pressed against his back with their headsbent low in swift retreat, and he had to make strenuous efforts to keepfrom being overwhelmed and trampled down. A moment more and theSaguntines, having destroyed ever
y engine of war, reached the camp.

  The chieftain was snarling curses and threats against his brother andMaherbal who did not come up with the reserves to stay the torrent ofthe rout. He saw the troops issuing from the camp hurriedly, but on footand in disorder, with the precipitation produced by an unexpected event.Many of them were adjusting the straps of their cuirasses, and thedifferent tribes were jostled together and minus their leaders, who invain had trumpeters blow their horns to bring the hosts to order.

  The Saguntines in the blind impulse of victory clashed with thisreinforcement and almost routed it in the first encounter. Hannibal, whohad managed to reunite a group of the bravest soldiers, presented a firmfront to the Saguntines.

  "This way! This way!" he shouted to those coming from the camp, who intheir excitement did not know where to rally.

  But at the same time his cries attracted the enemy. Theron, as if guidedby his god, turned toward Hannibal, and soon his mace began to hammer atthe shields of the Carthaginians. He hurled himself against them withcool courage, breaking their lances with a blow of his club, woundinghimself on the swords which seemed to rebound from his powerful muscles,dripping blood beneath his lion skin, ferocious and magnificent, likeunto a divinity. He never raised his knotty trunk without dropping anenemy at his feet.

  The besiegers began to recede again before the pressure of theSaguntines; Hannibal was once more dragged by his men who were terrifiedby the savagery of the giant who seemed invulnerable, when an unexpectedturn gave a new phase to the combat. The earth shook beneath a wildgallop, like the reverberation of rolling thunder, and leaning overtheir horses' necks, their hair floating from beneath their helmets, andtheir white tunics streaming around their naked limbs, Asbyte's Amazonsfell upon the enemy with the violence of a hurricane. They camewhooping, waving their lances, calling one to another to charge upon thedenser groups, and the assailants fell back astonished at these womenwhom they saw near at hand for the first time, and who were now favoredby the effect of surprise.

  Looking between the heads which surrounded him, Hannibal saw Asbyte passlike a luminous flash, absolutely alone. The light of the sun, strikingupon her helmet, encircled her with a nimbus of gold. Her lover'sinstinct had revealed to her where Hannibal stood surrounded by enemies,and she dashed to his support.

  Succeeding events were rapid, instantaneous. Through the dust of thecharge Hannibal barely made out what occurred, as if it were thefleeting agony of a dream.

  The Amazon, with couched lance, rode at a gallop against the priest ofHercules, who in the recoil of that disordered hand to hand struggle hadbeen left alone in a broad open space.

  "Ohooo!----" shouted the Amazon, exciting her horse by her war cry.

  Pressing her legs against the animal's ribs she lifted herself upon hisback in order to give the giant a deeper wound.

  The horse, terrified at the frightful lion's head on the forehead of thecolossus, reared and whinnied, while at the same moment the enormousmace struck above his eyes with a crash like the breaking of a heavyamphora.

  The horse reeled backwards with a shattered skull, blood spurting fromhis eyes. The Amazon, thrown from his back, fell on her knees a fewsteps away, covering herself with her shield. If she could hold out amoment she would be saved. Hannibal, forgotten by his disorganized menwho were milling like a frightened herd in the confusion of battle, ranto her aid. Bodies of cavalry rushed from the camp to assist theaudacious Amazons, and the mass of the besieged retreated in disordertoward the city.

  Asbyte arose and advanced a step, raising her lance to thrust the giant;but at the same moment the enormous cudgel, brandished with both hands,crushed upon her like a toppling wall. Her crumpling bronze shield rungplaintively, her golden helmet parted on the seams, and Asbyte doubledup on the ground, her tunic stained with blood, like a wounded whitebird folded in its fluttering wings.

  Theron, despite his ferocity, stood appalled, resting on his club,oblivious to what was taking place about him, as if repentant for thefrightful destruction which his power had wrought upon that beautifulwoman.

  "Answer _me_ for that, Theron! Defend yourself, butcher of Hercules!Kill me if you can; I am Hannibal!"

  The priest turned and beheld a warrior, his face covered by his shield,his sword held in tierce, advancing with amazing agility, circlingaround him like a tiger attacking an elephant and seeking by his greatermobility to spring upon him at a defenceless point. The battle hadceased; the Saguntines fell back toward the city. The besieging cavalrycharged close up to the walls, leaving the two combatants alone on thefield. A few soldiers sluggishly approached, and stood still somedistance away, intimidated by the superstitious terror which the giantinspired.

  Theron did not falter on finding himself alone. Hannibal! It wasHannibal the great warrior, who was now to fight with him absolutelyalone! This singular duel, in view of the whole city looking on from thewalls, seemed arranged by his god! He was to rid Saguntum of her direstenemy! Hercules had reserved this glory for him; and smiling withsatisfaction he raised the mace, striding straight toward the African.

  Hannibal eluded him, stepping backward, springing aside with felineagility, evading the encounter, until at last the priest was weary andwished to end the struggle before new combatants should arrive. Hesteadied himself on his colossal legs and hurled the club at Hannibal.The enormous tree trunk tore through the air, while Hannibal, seeing itcoming, sprang aside. It grazed his shield with a thundering clang, andfell far away amid a cloud of dust.

  The African bent his knees at the shock, but recovered himself, andflinging away his broken shield rushed at Theron with lifted sword.

  The priest of Hercules, finding himself disarmed, experienced amomentary qualm; he knew fear, believing himself in the presence of asuperior being against whom his strength could not avail, and turninghis back on Hannibal he fled toward Saguntum. The people on the wallsseeing his peril called to him. Some drew their bows to stop Hannibalwith their arrows, but they dared not shoot for fear of woundingTheron. The Saguntines breathed hard at seeing their Hercules flee,pursued by the warrior who was heading him off so that he should notreach the city.

  The giant being heavy and muscular, ran with difficulty over the groundstrewn as it was with dead and with the litter of the fight. He stumbledover a shield; his knees bent; he arose again; but this time completelynude. The lion skin had fallen from his shoulders, and lay among thewrack of battle.

  His pursuer caught up to him. The giant felt the cold steel sink intothe muscles of his back, and not caring to die like a fleeing slave insight of his entire city he turned quickly, extending his columnar armsto crush his enemy between them; but before the two muscular massescould encircle and mangle him, Hannibal had buried his sword again andagain in the side of the colossus, and Theron fell, pressing his handsagainst his wounds and gazing at his dark red blood.

  He looked at Hannibal without anger, with a childlike expression ofpain, and then he fixed his death-clouded eyes on the lofty Acropolis,where the roofs glistened in the sun.

  "Father Hercules!" he murmured bitterly. "Why do you abandon yourpeople?"

  His enormous head raised a cloud of dust as it struck the ground.Hannibal bent over it and with his sword began to hew the robust neck,obliged to strike many blows to sever the network of corded tendons andstubborn muscles, which seemed to blunt the edge of the blade.

  A cloud of arrows began to plow the ground roundabout Hannibal.

  The chieftain removed his helmet, loosing his mass of curling hair; hegrasped the head of Theron by its gory mane, and placing one foot in theattitude of conqueror upon the body of the priest, he showed it to thepeople on the walls.

  He was magnificent with his sword in his right hand and holding out hisother arm which sustained the head of the giant. The dark integument ofhis eyes, brilliant as the metal disks which hung from his ears, gleamedwith pride and icy hate.

  The Saguntines recognized the victor, and wails of surprise and peals offury thundered along t
he wall.

  "Hannibal! It is Hannibal!"

  He still stood motionless, like a statue of victory, proudly defying theenemy, heedless of the storm of projectiles whizzing around him, untilsuddenly he dropped the head of Theron and sank to his knees, lettingfall his sword.

  Mopsus the bowman had shot an arrow through his leg.

  From the walls all beheld how, in an outburst of angry pain he tore outthe arrow-shaft, broke it into splinters, and flung them away. Then theysaw no more. A host of the besieging army rushed forward and coveredhim, and his archers and slingers began to shoot against thebattlements.

  Actaeon, fatigued by the recent sally, and hidden behind a merlon,watched what was taking place around Hannibal, paying no attention tothe missiles from the slingers, who, infuriated by the wounding of theirchief, hurled a hail of stones against the walls.

  He saw Hannibal move away supported by two Carthaginian captains ingolden cuirasses, accompanied by a multitude.

  Suddenly the chieftain repelled his helpers, and limped painfully towarda white, bloodstained object lying on the red earth like a shapelessrag. He bent over the form, and the Numidians who surrounded it beheldthe terrible Hannibal weep--for the first and last time--pressing hislips upon the mangled head of the Amazon Asbyte.