It was evident that the assault was intended to be carried on simultaneously against all the gates of Rome. Foremost came the archers and slingers, in light groups of skirmishers, whose business it was to rid the ramparts of their defenders. Then followed battering-rams and wall-breakers, taken from Roman arsenals or constructed on Roman models, though often clumsily enough; harnessed with horses and oxen and served by soldiers without weapons of attack, whose sole business it was to protect themselves and their teams against the projectiles of the enemy by means of their shields. Close behind, in thick ranks and fully armed, furnished with battle-axes and strong knives for the hand-to-hand struggle, and dragging heavy ladders, came the warriors who were to undertake the assault. These three separate lines of attack advanced steadily, in good order, and with an even step. The sun glittered upon their helmets; at intervals of equal lengths sounded the long-drawn summons of the Gothic horns. "They have learned something of us," cried Cethegus, with a soldier's pride in the fine array. "The man who has ordered these ranks understands war." "Who is it?" asked Kallistratos, who, in splendid armour, stood near Lucius Licinius. "King Witichis, without doubt," answered Cethegus. "I should not have thought that simple man, with his modest expression, capable of such generalship." "These barbarians are often unfathomable," remarked Cethegus. And now he rode away from the Capitol, over the river to the ramparts at the Pancratian Gate, where the first attack seemed to threaten. There he ascended the corner tower with his followers. "Who is the old man with the flowing beard, marching before his troop and carrying a stone axe? He looks as if the lightning of Zeus had missed him in the battle with the Titans." "It is Theodoric's old master-at-arms; he marches against this gate," answered the Prefect. "And who is the richly-accoutred man upon the brown charger, with the wolfs head upon his helmet? He is marching towards the Porta Portuensis." "That is Duke Guntharis, the Wölfung," said Lucius Licinius. "And see there, too, on the eastern side of the city, away over the river, as far as the eye can reach, the ranks of the enemy advance against all the gates," cried Piso. "But where is the King himself!" asked Kallistratos. "Look! there in the middle you see the Gothic standard. There he is, opposite the Pancratian Gate," answered the Prefect. "He alone, with his strong division, stands motionless far behind the lines," said Salvius Julianus, the young jurist. "Will he not join in the fight!" asked Massurius. "It would be against his habit not to do so. But let us go down upon the ramparts; the fight begins," said Cethegus. "Hildebrand has reached the trench."