Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476Dahn, Felix
History
Felicitas: A Tale of the German Migrations: A.D. 476
Dahn, Felix
Migrations of nations -- Fiction; Salzburg (Austria : Land) -- History -- Fiction
Leo angrily threw at him the heavy fortress-key, which lay on an
ottoman near. "Depart hence, stubborn dog! Davus!" cried he to the
younger slave, who was engaged in putting ready the armour of the
Tribune, "drag him to the stable, and hang him there in chains! If the
brat will not be his master's plaything, away with him to the beasts!"
The boy sprang up and threw his woollen mantle around him.
Davus dragged him away. The look, full of deadly hate, which the young
German threw back, quickly turning as he passed out of the room, Leo
did not observe. He soon recovered his good-humour.
"To-morrow I shall have better company here in the Thalamos," said he,
again stroking his dark beard, "than an untamable young bear.
Felicitas! I drink to our first embrace!" And he emptied the cup.
Then he stood up. "I need a support no longer!" He thereupon motioned
away the elder slave, stepped to the window of the tower, and looked
out.
"There is not a hundred of them, these daring barbarians! What
insolence! Only a few wear defensive armour; and their weapons of
attack are pitiable. How many of their arrows, spears, battle-axes have
already splintered harmlessly on my helmet and armour! They are coming
straight towards me. I long for battle and victory! There is life down
there in the streets of the town. Severus is gathering his cobblers and
tinkers. But they will not get the better of the impetuous enemy. When
the old man, who is playing the general, is in the greatest distress--I
will let him struggle a good while as a punishment--then will I ride
out with my cavalry like the storm of the desert, and sweep them before
me. But first to the priest. No one in the town is now thinking of
anything but the barbarians outside the gates. So I can accomplish it
unnoticed. The danger from that priest must be very threatening, when
the cowardly gold-sack himself counsels bloody means. He has ever
menaced me, the psalm-whiner. First security and revenge, then the
pleasure of victory, and for a reward--Felicitas. Let Pluto be
saddled," commanded he the old slave, "and help me to arm."
The old man took the order to the court below, and then returned to the
tower. Leo had already put on the tall helmet with its flowing plume,
and the splendid greaves, and the slave now helped his master to clasp
and buckle over the dark-red tunic the magnificent breast-armour, which
was adorned with many orders and distinctions. When Leo had girded on
the sword, and was going to take the bronze shield, with the long,
sharp spike in the centre, the old man took carefully from a small
ivory box, which stood in the corner near the couch, a narrow leather
strap with two diminutive appendages, and with an entreating, silent,
impressively eloquent look, offered the charm to his master. It was a
small, ugly idol in amber, and a tiny silver case.
"Take it, my lord!" entreated the Greek, as Leo contemptuously pushed
it away.
"What shall I do with that? What sort of"----
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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