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
"Peace! both of you," commanded Vestralp, "fill your mouths with Roman
wine. Bring the skin, Crispus, thou Roman hero! Do not untie it! A
stroke with the sword. So! It spouts like red blood out of wounds! Now
the helmets and hollow shields, until the noble Roman in the buck's
skin is exhausted. And as concerns the strife about the two stone
steps, I think that a good man honours everything that is sacred to
another. Therefore, brothers, we will all draw back from those steps."
"But the gold and silver on the walls, on the pillars and stone
coffers?" said Helmdag, the Arian.
"Perhaps that is to stay for the plundering slaves?" said Rando the
Catholic.
"No!" cried the enlightened pagan, who had spoken for peace--it was
Vestralp, the vanquisher of the helmeted Crispus--"that would be a
pity. We will divide it amongst us all: for the God Ziu, for the Romish
Bishops, and for the followers of Arius."
And they immediately set to work with the bronze helmet, or deer-skin
cap, full of red wine in the left hand, the battle-axe in the right.
Drinking heartily during their work, they broke away from the
sarcophagi, holy shrines, and even from the columns, all that was
valuable of the metal ornaments and jewels, and also the stones that
pleased the eye by their variegated colours.
Garizo, a young, slim, tall Bajuvaren, lifted from the neck of a Saint
Anne her necklace of heavy gold and sapphires, giving at the same time
a deep bow, and saying:
"With thy permission, holy goddess, or whatever else thou mayest be;
but thou art horribly ugly, and of dead stone. What one sees of thy
bosom is yellow; but my bride Albrun is alive and young, and
wonderfully beautiful; and very pretty will these stones look on her
white neck."
"Yes, but where are they then, your women and children, and unarmed
folk?" asked Vestralp of the busy bridegroom.
"They will come to-morrow down the eastern mountains," answered Garizo.
"For this we have at last found out, 'slow-moving' as we are, as thy
hasty-tongued comrade just now said--this we have now learnt: to send
the men forwards into the battle, and let the unarmed come afterwards
when the victory and land is won."
"There must be something in it," laughed Vestralp, "in this name
'slow-moving,' because it vexes you so. If one called you a coward, you
would only laugh and strike him down. You are a strange people! No
other race so calm, and at the same time so terrible in anger."
"I will tell thee," spoke thoughtfully Helmbert, the white-bearded. "We
are like the mountains; they stand quiet, whatever goes on round about
them. But if the tumult within gets too vexatious, they overturn in
rocks and fire."
"You have shown this time that you also can be cunning and crafty,"
cried Suomar. "With what artful care did you prevent the enemy getting
scent of your approach! So sharply did you watch all the roads, and
even the mule-tracks and the paths of the chamois-hunters, that no
intelligence from the east could reach Juvavum."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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