by Felix Dahn
CHAPTER XIII
At sunrise the next morning the long-drawn notes of the horns arousedthe sleeping camp of the Vandals.
Concealed from the eyes of the Romans by the first row of tents, theBarbarians' army was formed in order for battle within its own camp.The leaders had received written orders the evening before concerningtheir positions, and now executed them without confusion. A breakfastof bread and wine was served to the men wherever they stood or lay. Thecamp was a large one, narrow but very long, following the course of thelittle stream. Besides the soldiers, it had been compelled to sheltermany women, children, and old men who had fled from Carthage and otherdistricts occupied or threatened by the foe.
Now the blare of trumpets summoned the subordinate officers and theleaders of the thousands to the centre of the camp, where the King andhis two brothers, mounted on their chargers, were in the midst of alarge open space. With them, leaning against the shoulder of hersplendid stallion, stood Hilda, a muffled spear-shaft in her hand;beside her, in full priestly insignia, Verus sat on horseback. Outsidethe leaders were massed the men with whom Zazo had reconqueredSardinia.
Again the blare of the trumpets echoed through the streets of tents,then Zazo rode a few paces forward. Thundering cheers greeted him. Inloud, clear tones he began: "Listen, army of the Vandals. We shallfight to-day, not for victory alone; we are struggling for all we areand have,--the kingdom of Genseric and its renown, the wives andchildren in yonder tents, who will become slaves if we yield. To-day wemust look death and the enemy closely in the eye. The King hascommanded that this battle is to be fought by the Vandals with thesword only, not with bow and arrow, not with lance and spear. Look, Icast my own spear from me; you will do the same; with sword in hand,press close to the body of the foe." He dropped his lance; all thesoldiers followed his example. "One spear alone," he added, "will toweraloft to-day in the Vandal army,--this."
Hilda stepped forward. Taking the shaft from her hand, he tore off thecover and waved high aloft a floating scarlet banner.
"Genseric's flag! Genseric's conquering dragon!" shouted thousands ofvoices.
"Follow this standard wherever it calls you. Do not let it fall intothe hands of the enemy. Swear to follow it unto death."
"Unto death!" came the answer in solemn tones.
"That is well. I believe you. Vandals. Now listen to your King. Youknow that he has the gift of song and harp-playing. He has planned theorder of battle wisely, skilfully; he has also composed the battle-songwhich is to sweep you into the conflict."
Then Gelimer, throwing back his long purple mantle, raisedHilda's--Teja's--dark triangular harp, and, to the accompaniment of itsclear notes, sang:--
"On, on, Vandals brave, Forward to battle! Follow the standard, The fame-heralded Consort of Victory.
"Dash on the foemen! Strive with and strike them, Breast 'gainst breast pressing, In close combat down!
"Guard ye, O Vandals, The heritage noble Of ancestors stainless, Our kingdom and fame!
"Vengeance is preparing High in the heavens The avenger of right: God crown with victory The cause that is just."
"God crown with victory the cause that is just!" repeated the warriors,in an exulting shout, and dispersed through the streets of the camp.
The King and his brothers now dismounted from their horses, to holdanother short council and to drink the wine which Hilda herself offeredto them. Just at that moment, as Gelimer gave back the harp to Hilda, astrange figure pressed through the dispersing ranks; the King and thePrinces gazed at it in astonishment. A tall man clad from head toankles in a gown of camel's hair, fastened around the loins, not by arope, but by a girdle of thick braided strands of a woman's light-browntresses; no sandals protected the bare feet, no covering the closelyshaven head. The cheeks were sunken; glowing eyes sparkled from deepsockets. Throwing himself before the King, he raised both handsimploringly.
"By Heaven! I know you, man," said Gelimer.
"Yes," cried Gibamund, "it is--"
"Thrasabad, Thrasaric's brother," added Zazo.
"The vanished nobleman whom we have long believed dead," said Hilda,with a timid glance at him, drawing nearer.
"Yes, Thrasabad," replied a hollow voice, "the miserable Thrasabad. Iam a murderer, her murderer. King, judge me!"
Gelimer bent forward, took his right hand, and raised him.
"Not the Greek girl's murderer. I have heard the whole story from yourbrother."
"No matter; her blood rests on my soul. I felt that as I saw it flow.Lifting the beautiful body on a horse that very night, I dashed awaywith it from the eyes of men. Away, always deeper into the desert, tillthe horse fell. Then, with these hands, I buried her in a sand ravinenot far from here. Her wonderfully beautiful hair I cut off; how oftenI have stroked and caressed it! And I prayed and did penanceceaselessly beside her grave. Pious desert monks found me there,watching and fasting, almost dead. And I confessed to them my heavysin. They promised God's forgiveness if, as one of their brotherhood, Iwould do penance beside that grave forever. I took the vows. They gaveme the dress of their order; I wound Glauke's hair around it to remindme always of my sin; and they brought me food in the lonely ravine. Butsince I heard of the day of Decimum and my brother's death; since thedecisive conflict drew nearer and nearer; since you and the enemypitched your camp close beside my hiding-place; since, two days ago, Iheard the war horns of my people,--I have had no peace in my idlepraying! Once I wielded the sword not badly. My whole heart yearned tofollow once more, for the last time, the call of the battle trumpets.Alas! I dared not; I knew I was not worthy. But last night, in a dream,_she_ appeared to me,--her human beauty transfigured into an angel'sradiant loveliness, no longer any trace of earth about her; and shesaid: 'Go to your brothers-in-arms, ask for a sword, and fight and fallfor your people. That will be the best atonement.' Oh, believe me, myKing! I do not lie with the name of that saint on my lips. If you canforgive me for her sake--oh, let me--"
Zazo stepped forward, drew the sword from the sheath of one of his ownwarriors, and gave it to the monk. "Here, Thrasabad, son of Thrasamer!I will answer for it to the King. Do you see? He, too, is nodding toyou. Take this sword and go with my men. You will probably need noscabbard. Now, King Gelimer, let the horns bray. Forward! at the foe!"
