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
One of the two Germans, a youthful, towering, splendid figure, on a
milk-white steed, was by the ornaments and splendour of his arms
characterised as a leader; he might be more than ten years younger than
Cornelius, who noticed with envy the muscular strength of the naked
right arm of the young barbarian, adorned and at the same time
strengthened by broad golden armlets; the left arm was covered by a
small round shield, painted red, embellished in the centre with a
spokeless wheel, a Rune or a picture of the sun. His breast was
protected by splendidly-worked armour--ah! with feelings of anger
Severus recognised, by the badges of honour appended thereto, that it
had been the panoply of a distinguished Roman officer, a legate or
_magister militum_;--he wore short leather breeches; from the ankle
upwards the calf of the leg was bound round with neat leather straps;
the left only of the two closely-fitting wooden shoes bore a spur; the
rider scorned saddle and stirrups; a short double axe was stuck in his
girdle, a white woollen mantle, fastened together so that it hindered
no movement, hung at his back; it was the hand of the mother--for this
youth was certainly yet unwedded--who had worked the handsome, broad,
bright red stripe on its border; splendid light golden hair floated on
his shoulders in natural curls, and surrounded the dazzlingly
beautiful, maidenlike white face; and on the proudly arched Roman
helmet, also obtained by plunder, towered, instead of the Latin black
horse-tail, the pinion of the gray heron.
The second horseman, a gigantic, gray-haired man of about sixty years,
with a gray beard falling low on his breast and waving in the wind,
seemed to be the leader o£ the retinue of his chief. He was simply
dressed and armed; the mane and tail of his powerful war-horse, a brown
stallion, were prettily interwoven with red and yellow ribbons; on his
shoulders he wore the skin of a wolf, whose open jaws yawned at the
enemy from the top of his helmet; his shield was painted in red and
yellow circles; at his unarmed breast he carried a mighty horn of the
bison of the primeval forest.
The commander now raised his lowered spear, threw it into the
bridle-hand, and offered the right to Severus, who took it with
hesitation, and immediately let it fall.
"First a grasp of the hand," cried the German, with a soft,
richly-toned voice, in very good Vulgate Latin--"first a grasp of the
hand, then, if you so wish it, a stroke with the sword. I know thee;
thou art the brave Severus, formerly the _Magister Militum_. Thou art
gallantly continuing the struggle at a lost post, for a lost cause. I
pride myself in being the son of the hero Liutbert, king of the
Alemanni. My name is Liuthari, and no man has yet conquered me."
Severus frowned darkly. "I have heard of thy father's name, and of
thine, you have stormed Augusta Vindelicorum."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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