ere all fixed upon the
enemy in front, a man on foot forced his way through our horsemen from
the basilica behind. I heard a hoarse cry: 'Wait, boy!' and saw the
flash of a sword. Ammata fell forward on his knees.

"It was Bleda, the captive Hun. The torn rope still dragged from his
ankle. He had wrenched himself free and seized a weapon; before he
could draw the sword from the boy's back Thrasaric's spear pierced him
through and through. But the noble had forgotten the foes in front, and
no longer struck the flying lances aside. Two spears pierced him at
once; he received a deep wound in the thigh and staggered against the
wall of the villa.

"A narrow door close beside him opened, and on the threshold stood
Astarte. 'Come, my beloved, I will save you,' she said, seizing his
arm. 'A secret passage from my cellar--'

"But Thrasaric silently shook her off and threw himself before the
kneeling boy. For now Herulians and Byzantines, on foot and on
horseback, were pressing forward in dense throngs. The door closed.

"I tried to rise, but could not; so, unable to aid, helpless myself,
but covered by a dead horse behind which I had fallen, I saw the end. I
will make the story brief. So long as he could move an arm, the
faithful giant protected the boy with sword and spear; finally, when
the spear-head was hacked off, the sword broken, he sheltered the boy
with his own body. I saw how he spread the huge bearskin over him as a
shield, and clasped both arms around the child's breast.

"'Surrender, brave warrior,' cried the leader of the Herulians. But
Thrasaric--hark! What was that?"

"A groan? Yonder! Does your foot ache, my Gibamund?"

"I made no sound. It was probably a night-bird--outside--before the
tent."

"But Thrasaric shook his huge head and hurled his sword-hilt into the
face of the nearest Byzantine, who fell, shrieking. Then so many lances
flew at the same instant that Ammata sank lifeless on the ground.
Thrasaric did not fall, but stood bending forward, his arms hanging
loosely. The Herulian leader went close to him. 'In truth,' he said,
'never have I seen anything like this. The man is dead; but he cannot
fall, so many spears, with handles resting on the ground, are fixed in
his breast.' He gently drew out several; the strong noble slid down
beside Ammata.

"Our men had fled as soon as they saw us both fall. Past me--I lay as
though lifeless swept the foe in pursuit. Not until after a long time,
when ev