"Forward!" he cried. "Pull, my men, with all your might! Be ready, Goths!" Cethegus recognised the youth's tall figure. He even recognised the voice. "Let the galley approach quite close. When within twenty feet, shoot! Not yet!--Now! now shoot!" "Crouch close, Goths!" cried Totila. A hail of arrows fell over the galley. But they rebounded from a roof of shields. "Damn them!" cried Piso, behind the Prefect. "They intend to break the chain with the force of the shock. And they will surely do it, even if every man on deck should fall! The oarsmen we cannot reach, and the south wind cannot be wounded!" "Fire the sails! fire the ship! Bring firebrands!" cried Cethegus. Ever nearer rustled the threatening "Swan." Ever nearer approached the ruinous shock against the tightly-stretched chains. Firebrands were hurled at the galley. One flew into the sail of the main-mast, burnt quickly up, and then died out. A second--Cethegus himself had hurled it--passed close to the golden locks of the King. It fell near him. He had not remarked it; but a shepherd-boy, who carried no weapon but a shepherd's staff, ran up and trampled it out. The other brands rebounded from the shields and fell hissing into the river. And now the prow of the galley was only eight feet from the chain. The Romans trembled in expectation of the shock. Cethegus stepped to the bow of his boat, balancing and aiming his heavy spear. "Mark!" he said; "as soon as the King falls, be quick with more firebrands." Never had the practised soldier aimed better. Drawing back his spear once more, he launched it at the King with all the force lent to his arm by hatred. His followers waited breathlessly. But the King did not fall. He had caught sight of Cethegus while aiming; at the same moment he threw down his long and narrow shield and awaited the flying shaft with his left arm drawn back. Whistling came the spear straight at the spot where the King's bare neck showed above his breastplate. When within a few inches of his throat, the King caught the shaft with his left hand and immediately hurled it back at the Prefect, wounding him on the left arm just above his shield. Cethegus fell on his knee. At the same instant the galley struck the chain. It burst. The Roman boats which lay near, including that of Cethegus, were upset; and most of them drove masterless down the river. "Victory!" shouted Totila. "Yield, mercenaries!" Cethegus, bleeding, swam to the left bank of the river. He saw how the Gothic galley lowered two boats, into one of which sprang the King. He saw how a whole flotilla of large vessels, which had sailed up in the wake of the King's galley, now broke through the boats of his bowmen, and landed troops on both sides of the river. He saw how his Abasgians--neither armed nor in the mood for a hand-to-hand fight--surrendered themselves by companies to the Goths. He saw how a rain of arrows from the royal galley fell upon the defenders on the left bank.