A Struggle For Rome Volume Iii Part 29

Thanks to the King's eloquence, he was able to induce his friend to promise that he would accompany the aged Ca.s.siodorus to Byzantium in a few days. Julius at first shunned the glitter, the noise, and the wickedness of the Emperor's court, until at last Ca.s.siodorus' example and Totila's persuasions overcame his scruples.

"I think," the King said, "that more pious works can be accomplished in the world than in the cloister. _This_ emba.s.sy is such a pious work; a work which is to save two nations from the horrors of renewed warfare."

"Certainly," said Julius, "a king and a hero can serve G.o.d as well as a monk. I do not blame your manner of service--leave mine to me. It seems to me that in the time in which we live, when an ancient world is sinking amid much terror, and a new one arises amid wild storms; when all the vices of a degenerated heathenism are mixed with the wildness of a barbarous race; when luxury, brute force, and the l.u.s.ts of the flesh fill East and West, I think it is well done to found a sanctuary apart from the world, where poverty, purity, and humble-mindedness can dwell in peace."

"But to me," said Totila, "it seems that splendour, the happiness of honest love, and cheerful pride, are no sin before the G.o.d of Heaven!

What thinkest thou of our dispute, friend Teja?"

"It has no meaning for me," answered Teja quietly, "for your G.o.d is not my G.o.d. But let us not speak of that, for here comes Valeria."

CHAPTER III.

One evening, the same on which Adalgoth had arrived with the King at Taginal, Gotho, the shepherdess, stood in the sunset light upon the southern declivity of the Iffinger, leaning upon her staff.

Round her gambolled and grazed her flock of sheep and lambs, and gradually gathered close round their mistress, eagerly expecting to be led to the sheepfold.

But they waited and bleated in vain, for the pretty maiden bent over the mossy stones on the edge of the clear mountain brook. Heaped up in her leather ap.r.o.n lay the lovely scented flowers of the mountain: thyme, wild-rose, mint--which grew on the moist edges of the brook--and the dark blue enzian.

Gotho murmured and spoke to herself, to the flowers, and to the running stream, throwing the flowers into the water, sometimes singly, sometimes in little sprays or unfinished wreaths.

"How many," said the girl, as she tossed her thick yellow braids over her shoulder, "how many of you have I sent away to greet him! For he has gone to the south, and the water runs there too. But I know not if you give my greeting, for he has never yet come home. But you, as you rise and sink in the dance of the ripples, you beckon me to follow you.

Ah! if I could! or follow the little fish which dart down the stream like dark arrows! Or the swift mountain swallows that skim through the air as free as thought! Or the rosy-winged evening clouds, when the mountain wind drives them southwards! But most surely of all would the heart of the seeker herself find him, could she but leave the mountain, and follow him to the distant and sunny land. But what should I do down there? A shepherdess amongst the warriors or the wise court-ladies! And I shall certainly see him again, as surely as I shall again see the sun, although it sinks behind yonder mountains. It is sure to come again, and yet! all the time between its parting ray and its morning greeting is filled with longing!"

From the house there suddenly sounded a far-reaching tone, a blast upon the twisted ram's horn. Gotho looked up; it had become darker; she could see the red fire upon the hearth glimmer through the open door.

The sheep answered the well-known sound with louder bleatings, stretching their necks in the direction of the house and the stalls.

The brown and s.h.a.ggy sheep-dog sprang upon Gotho, as if to remind her that it was time to go home.

"I will go directly," she said, smiling, and stroking the dog's head.

"Ah! the sheep are sooner tired of their pasture than the shepherdess of her thoughts! Now, forwards, White Elf, thou art already become a great fat sheep!"

She went down the hill towards the little hollow between two mountain summits, where the house and stalls found protection from the wind and the avalanches. There the last rays of the sun dazzled her no more. The stars were already visible. Gotho looked up at the sky.

"They are so beautiful, because _he_ has looked at them so often!"

A shooting-star fell to the south.

"He calls me! Thither!" cried Gotho, slightly trembling.

She now drove the sheep more quickly forward, and presently shut them into their cot, and entered the large and only chamber of the ground-floor of the dwelling-house.

There she found her grandfather stretched upon the raised stone placed close to the hearth; his feet covered with two large sheep-skins.

He looked paler and older than usual.

"Seat thyself beside me, Gotho," he said, "and drink; here is milk mixed with honey. Listen to me. The time is come of which I have often spoken. We must part. I am going home. Thy dear face is indistinct; my tired old eyes can no longer distinguish thy features. And yesterday when I tried to go down to the spring, my knees failed me. Then I felt that the end was near, and I sent the goat-herd over to Teriolis with a message. But thou shalt not be present when his soul flies out of old Iffa's mouth. The death of a man is not lovely to behold--especially death upon the straw-bed. And thou hast never yet seen anything sorrowful. This shadow shall not fall upon thy young life. To-morrow, before c.o.c.kcrow, brave Hunibad will come over from Teriolis to fetch thee--he has promised me to do so. His wounds are not yet healed; he is yet weak; but he says that he cannot remain idle when, as they say, the war will be sure to break out again. He wishes to go to King Totila in Rome. And there too thou must go with an important message. He shall be thy guide and protector. Bind thick soles of beech-rind under thy feet, for the way is long. Brun, the dog, may accompany thee. Take that bag of goat's leather; in it are six gold pieces which belonged to--to Adalgoth's--to your father; they are Adalgoth's--but thou mayst use them--they will last till thou reachest Rome. And take a bundle of scented mountain hay from the meadows of the Iffinger, and lay thy head upon it at night; then thou wilt sleep more soundly. And when thou reachest Rome and the golden palace of the King, and enterest the hall, observe which of the men wears a golden circlet upon his brow, and from whose countenance shines a light like that of the morning--that will be King Totila. Then bow thy head before him--but not too much--and do not bend thy knee; for thou art a free Goth's free child. Thou must give the King this roll, which I have carefully kept for many summers. It comes from Uncle Wargs, who was buried by the mountain."

The old man lifted a brick from the masonry which separated the hearth from the floor of stamped clay, and took from a hole a roll of papyrus, which, tied and sealed, was folded in a piece of parchment covered with writing and fastened with strange seals.

"Here," he said, "take the greatest care of this writing. That upon the parchment cover I myself dictated to Hermegisel over in Majae. He swore to keep it secret, and he has kept his oath. And now he can speak no more from out of his grave in the church. And thou and Hunibad--you cannot read. That is a good thing, for it might be dangerous for thee and--and another--if any one knew what that roll contains before Totila, the mild and just King, has read it. Above all, hide it carefully from the Italians. And in every town to which thou comest, ask if there dwells Cornelius Cethegus Caesarius, the Prefect of Rome.

And if the door-keepers say aye, then turn upon thy heel, however tired thou mayst be, and however late the night, or hot the day, and wander on until thou hast put three several waters between thee and the man Cethegus. And no less carefully than the writing--thou seest that I have put rosin, such as drops from the fir-trees, upon it instead of wax, and I have scratched our house-mark upon the seal, the mark that our cattle and wagons bear--not less carefully keep this old and costly gold."

And he took from the hole the half of a broad gold bracelet, such as the Gothic heroes wore upon their naked arms. He kissed the bracelet and the imperfect Runic inscription upon it reverently.

"This came from Theodoric, the great King, and from him--my dear--son Wargs. Mark--it belongs to Adalgoth. It is his most valuable inheritance. The other half of the bracelet--and the half of the inscription--I gave to the boy when I sent him away. When King Totila has read the writing, and if Adalgoth is present--as he must be if he obeys my orders--then call Adalgoth and put half-ring to half-ring, and ask the King to p.r.o.nounce a judgment. He is said to be mild and wise and clear as the light of day. He will judge righteously. If not he, then no one. Now kiss my darkening eyes, and go and sleep. May the Lord of heaven and all his clear eyes, sun, moon, and stars, shine upon all thy ways. When thou hast found Adalgoth, and when thou dwellest with him in the little rooms of the close houses in the narrow streets of the city, and when it feels too small and close and narrow down there--then both of you think of your childish days up here upon the high Iffinger, and once again the fresh mountain air will seem to blow across your heated brows."

Silently, without objection, without fear, without a question, the shepherd-girl listened and obeyed.

"Farewell, grandfather!" she said, kissing him upon his eyes; "I thank thee for much love and faithfulness."

But she did not weep.

She knew not what death was.

She went away from him to the threshold of the door, and looked out at the mountain landscape, which now appeared dark and melancholy. The sky was clear, the summits of the mountains shone in the moonlight.

"Farewell!" said Gotho; "farewell, thou Iffinger! and thou, Wolf's-head! and thou, old Giant! and thou, running below, bright-shining Pa.s.sara! Do you know it already? To-morrow I leave you all. But I go willingly, for I go to _him_!"

CHAPTER IV.

After the lapse of many weeks, Ca.s.siodorus and Julius returned from Byzantium, bringing--no peace.

On landing, Ca.s.siodorus, weary of the world and its ways, retired at once to Brundusium, to his Apulian cloister, leaving Julius to report their ill-success to the King in Rome.

Totila received his friend in the Capitol, in the presence of the leaders of the army.

"At first," related Julius, "our prospects were sufficiently favourable. The Emperor, who had formerly refused to receive the amba.s.sadors of Witichis, could not shut his palace doors in the face of the most learned man of the West, the pious and wise Ca.s.siodorus. We were received with kindness and respect. In the council held by the Emperor, men of distinction, such as Tribonia.n.u.s and Procopius, raised their voices in favour of peace. The Emperor himself seemed inclined thereto. His two great generals, Na.r.s.es and Belisarius, were fighting, at different points of the south-eastern frontier of the Empire, against Persians and Saracens; and the campaign in Italy and Dalmatia had demanded such great sacrifices, and had lasted so long, that war with the Goths had become hateful to the Emperor. It was indeed not likely that he would entirely renounce the hope of reconquering Italy, but he saw the impossibility of doing so at present. He therefore willingly entered into negotiations of peace, and accepted our proposals for further consideration. His first thought was, as he told us, to bring about a provisional division of the peninsula; the far larger portion of the country, to the south of the Padus, to belong to the Emperor, the northern half to the Goths. One day at noon, we had left the Emperor's presence with great hopes; the audience had turned out more favourably than all former ones. But in the evening of the same day we were surprised by the arrival of the Curo-palata Marcellus, accompanied by slaves carrying the gifts which it is customary to present to parting guests--a not-to-be-mistaken sign that all negotiations were broken off. Confounded at this sudden change, Ca.s.siodorus decided, for the sake of his work of peace, to dare the utmost--namely, to seek an audience of the Emperor after the presentation of the parting gifts. Tribonia.n.u.s, who had always opposed the war, and who highly esteemed Ca.s.siodorus, allowed himself to be prevailed upon to sue for this extraordinary grace. The answer came in a very ungracious threat of banishment should he ever again venture to pet.i.tion for anything against the clearly-expressed will of the Emperor, Never, never would the Emperor conclude peace with the barbarians, until they had entirely evacuated the kingdom. Never would he look upon the Goths in Italy as anything but enemies. In vain we tried," Julius continued, "to discover the cause of this sudden change.

We only learned that, after our last audience, the Empress, who is said to be often suffering, had invited her husband to dinner in her apartments. But it is certain that the Empress, formerly known to be the most zealous advocate of war, has lately given her voice in favour of peace."

"And what," asked the King, who had listened quietly, and with an expression of countenance more threatening than anxious--"what has procured me the honour of such a change of sentiment in the circus-girl?"

"It is whispered that, becoming more and more anxious for the salvation of her soul, the Empress desires to use all pecuniary means--not for a war, the end of which she scarcely expects to outlive--but upon the erection of churches, and especially for the completion of the church of St. Sophia. It is said that she wishes to be buried with the plan of this church imprinted upon her bosom."

"No doubt as a shield against the anger of the Almighty, at the resurrection of the dead! The woman thinks to disarm her G.o.d with her hundred churches, and to bribe Him with the sums expended. What madness this belief engenders!" murmured Teja.

"We could discover nothing," repeated Julius; "for I cannot think the shadow of suspicion which crossed my mind, perhaps the shadow of a mistake, of any moment."

"What was that?" inquired Totila.

"That evening, as I left the palace at a late hour, thinking over Tribonia.n.u.s's unfavourable report, the golden litter of the Empress was carried past me by her Cappadocian slaves from the quadrangle of the garden where stands the Empress's palace. The trellised shutter was lifted a little by the inmate of the litter--I looked up--and it seemed to me as if I recognised----"

"Well?" asked the King.