Adventure stories; Fantasy fiction; Tarzan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction
"Oh, yes, my friend," said Tarzan. "There are still others--the great
apes."
_Chapter Eighteen_
In the dungeons of Validus Augustus in Castrum Mare, Erich von Harben
and Mallius Lepus awaited the triumph of Validus Augustus and the
opening of the games upon the morrow.
"We have nothing to expect but death," said Lepus, gloomily. "Our
friends are in disfavor, or in prison, or in exile. The jealousy of
Validus Augustus against his nephew, Cassius Hasta, has been invoked
against us by Fulvus Fupus to serve his own aims."
"And the fault is mine," said von Harben.
"Do not reproach yourself," replied his friend. "That Favonia gave
you her love cannot be held against you. It is only the jealous and
scheming mind of Fupus that is to blame."
"My love has brought sorrow to Favonia and disaster to her friends,"
said von Harben, "and here am I, chained to a stone wall, unable to
strike a blow in her defense or theirs."
"Ah, if Cassius Hasta were but here!" exclaimed Lepus. "There is a
man. With Fupus adopted by Caesar, the whole city would arise against
Validus Augustus if Cassius Hasta were but here to lead us."
And as they conversed sadly and hopelessly in the dungeons of Castrum
Mare, noble guests gathered in the throne-room of Sublatus in the city
of Castra Sanguinarius, at the opposite end of the valley. There were
senators in rich robes and high officers of the court and of the army,
resplendent in jewels and embroidered linen, who, with their wives and
daughters, formed a gorgeous and glittering company in the pillared
chamber, for Fastus, the son of Caesar, was to wed the daughter of Dion
Splendidus that evening.
In the avenue, beyond the palace gates, a great crowd had assembled--a
multitude of people pushing and surging to and fro, but pressing ever
upon the gates up to the very pikes of the legionaries. It was a noisy
crowd--noisy with a deep-throated roar of anger.
"Down with the tyrant!" "Death to Sublatus!" "Death to Fastus!" was the
burden of their hymn of hate.
The menacing notes filled the palace, reaching to the throne-room, but
the haughty patricians pretended not to hear the voice of the cattle.
Why should they fear? Had not Sublatus distributed donations to all the
troops that very day? Would not the pikes of the legionaries protect
the source of their gratuity? It would serve the ungrateful populace
right if Sublatus set the legions upon them, for had he not given them
such a pageant and such a week of games as Castra Sanguinarius never
had known before?
For the rabble without, their contempt knew no bounds now that they
were within the palace of the Emperor, but they did not speak among
themselves of the fact that most of them had entered by a back gate
after the crowd had upset the litter of a noble senator and spilled its
passengers into the dust of the avenue.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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