Introduction to The Lion's Brood. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborn. Introduction Centuries come and go but the plot of the drama is unchanged and the same characters play the same parts. Only the actors cast for them are new. It is much worn, this denarius, and the lines are softened and blurred, as of right they should be when you think that more than 2,000 years have passed since it felt the die. It is lying before me now on my table and my eyes rest dreamily on its helmeted head of palace Nisifora. There behind her is the mint mark and that word of ancient power and glory, Roma. Below are letters so worn and indistinct that I must bend close to read them. M. Sergi And then others that I cannot trace. Perhaps I have dozed a bit for I must have turned the coin unthinking and now I see the reverse, a horseman in full panoply galloping with naked sword brandished in his left hand, from which depends a severed head tight clutched by long flowing hair. The clouds hang low over the city as I peer from my tower window, driving ever driving from the east and changing ever changing their fantastic shapes. Now they are the waving hands and gowns of a closely packed multitude surging with human passions. Now they are the headlong rout of a flying army upon which press hordes of riders, dark, fierce and barbarous, horses with tumultuous mains and hands with brandished darts. Surely it is a sleepy, workless day. It will be vain to drive my pen across the pages. I do not see the cloud-forms now, not with my eyes, for they have closed themselves perforce, but my brain is awake, and I know that the eyes of palace Nisifora see them, and grow brighter as if gazing on well-remembered scenes. Why not? How many thousands clinkings of coin against coin in purse and pouch? How many hundred impacts of hands that long since our dust have served to dim your once clear relief? Surely, palace, you have looked upon all this and much more. Shall I see ought with your eyes, lady of my surgeon denarius? Shall I see if, with you before me, I look fixedly at the legions of clouds that cross my window an hour, two, three, even until the night closes in? Grant but a grain of this, O goddess, and lo! I vow to thee a troop of pipe-players upon the Ides of June. End of introduction. Chapter 1 of The Lion's Brood. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information on a volunteer, please visit LibriVox.org. The Lion's Brood by Duffield Osborne. Chapter 1. News A troop of pipe-players to Minerva on the Ides of June, if we win, and my household to Mars, if we have lost. The speakers were hurrying along the street that leads down from the Palatine Hill toward the Forum, and both were young. Their high shoes fastened with quadruple thongs and adorned with small silver crescents proclaimed their patrician rank. Why do you vow as if the gods had already passed judgment, Lucius? Because, my chies, I'm very sure that a battle has been fought. Why else do these rumours mean that they are flying through the city? Rumours that none can trace to a source. It is only a few minutes since my freed man, Atius, told me how the slaves report that our neighbour Marcus Sabrius rode in last night through the Ratumenean Gate, and when I sent to his house to inquire, the doorkeeper feigned ignorance. That is only one of a hundred tales. Note the crowd thickening around us as we approach the Forum, and how all are pressing in the same direction. Study their faces and doubt what I say if you can. But is it victory or defeat? Answer me your own question, Chies. Is victory or defeat the word that men do not dare to utter? The face of Chies became grey, then suddenly he burst out with, You are right. I see it all now, even as you speak. And what hope had we from the first? Who was the demagogue Flaminius, that he should command our army, going forth without the auspices, A consul that was no consul at all in the sight of the gods? Then, too, there were the warnings that poured in from all the country, The ships in the sky, the crow alighting on the couch in the temple of Juno, The stone's raid in Pichinum.  Besides, you remember they were all expiated. And who knows that they were expiated truly? Quote an old woman from a booth by the road. Who does not know that, as Varro says, your patrician magistrates would rather lose a battle than that a plebeian consul should triumph? Vabo, the butcher, dreamed last night that his son's blood was drenching his bed, And when he awoke, it was water from the roof. And Erateis, the Greek soothsayer, says that Vabo's son has been slain in the water, And his blood, but the young patricians, who had halted a moment at the interruption, Now hurried on with an expression of contempt on their faces. That is what Flaminius stands for, resumed Lucius after a moment of silence. How can we look for success when such men are raised to the command merely because they are such men? And when a Fabius and a Claudius are set aside because their fathers' fathers led the armies of the Republic to victory in the days when this rabble were the slaves they should still be? The friends had turned into the sacred way. A moment later they arrived at the Forum lined with its rows of booths nestled away beneath massive porticoes of Peperino and with its coloured temples standing like divine sentinels about, or sweeping away up the rugged slope of the capital line to where the great feign of Jupiter capitalinas shed its protecting glory over the destinies of Rome. Below the broad expanse of Forum and Commitia was thronged with a surging crowd, patricians and plebeians, elbowing and pushing one another in mad efforts to get closer to the roster and to a small group of magistrates who, with grave faces, were clustered at the foot of its steps. These latter spoke to each other in whispers, but such a babble of sounds swelled up around them that they might safely have screamed without fear of being overheard. The booths were emptied of their cooks and butchers and silversmiths. Waving arms and the flutter of robes emphasised the discussions going on on every side. Here a rumour monger was telling his tale to a gaping cluster of pallid faces. There a plebeian pothouse orator was arraigning the upper classes to a circle of lowering brows and clenched fists, while the sneering face of some passing patrician told of a disdain beyond words as he gathered his toga closer to avoid the contamination of the rabble. One sentiment, however, seemed to prevail over all, and beside it curiosity, party ranker, wrath and contempt were as nothing. It was anxiety sharpened even into dread that brooded everywhere and controlled all other passions, while itself threatening at every moment to sweep away the barriers and to loose the warm southern blood of the citizens into a seething flood of furious riot or headlong panic. The two young men had descended into this maelstrom of popular excitement and were making such headway as they could toward the central point of interest. Now and again they passed friends who either looked straight into their faces without a sign of recognition or else burst out into floods of information, prayers for news or vouchsafings of it, news good or bad, true or false. Perhaps three-fourths of the distance had been covered at the expense of torn togas and bruised sides when a sudden commotion in front showed that something was happening. The next moment the hard-sturned face of Marcus Pomponius Matho, the priter Peregrinus, rose above the crowd and then the broad purple band upon his toga as he mounted the steps of the rostra. It seemed hours, almost days that he stood there, grave and silent, looking down into the sea of upturned faces while the roar of the multitude died away into a gentle murmur and then into a silence so oppressive that each man seemed to be holding his breath. Once the magistrate's lips moved but no words came from them and strange noises as of the clenching of teeth and sharp quick breathing rose all about. Then a voice came from his mouth, the very calmness of which seemed terrible. Queerites, we have been beaten in a great battle, our army is destroyed and Caius Flaminius, the consul, is killed. For a moment there was stillness deeper almost than before as if the lead-like words were sinking slowly but steadily along passage and nerve down to the central seats of consciousness. Then burst forth a sound as of a single groan, the groan of Jupiter himself in mortal anguish and then the noise of women weeping, the shrieking treble of age and the rumbling murmur of curses and execrations against Senate and nobles, against the rabble and their dead leader but above all against Carthage and her terrible captain. Who are these men that slay consuls and destroy armies, piped the shrill voice of an aged cripple who had struggled up from where he sat upon the steps of Caster and was shaking the stump of a wrist toward the north? Are they not the men who surrendered Sicily that we might let them escape from us at Erics? Did they not give up their ships and pay us tribute and scurry out of Sardinia that Rome might spare them? I, I who am talking to you, have seen their armies, naked barbarians from the deserts, naked barbarians from the woods, not one well-armed man in five, a rabble with a score of languages to whom no general can talk, they, to destroy the army of Rome in her own land, what crime have we committed that the gods should deal with us thus? But the great beasts that tear up the ranks put in a young butcher, one of the circle who had been drawn together about the veteran. How did his elephants save Pyrrhus and then we saw them for the first time? retorted the cripple. You forget that was before Rome had become the prey of demagogues before she had fliminii for consuls. All turned toward the new speaker, the young patrician whom his companion had called Lucius. He was a man perhaps twenty-five years of age, of middle height, but as if of tempered steel, with strong commanding features and dark hawk-like eyes, that were now glittering with passion. It was not a handsome face except so far as strength and pride make masculine beauty, but it was the face of one whom a man might trust and a woman love. The butcher was on the point of returning an angry retort, half to hide his awe of the other's rank when a friend caught him by the arm. Do you not see it is Lucius Sergius Fridainus, he whispered. The result of the warning was still doubtful when a sudden commotion in the crowd about them drew the attention of all to a short, thick-set man of middle age in the light panoply of a mounted legionary. Cries went up from all about. It is Marcus Dessius, he is from the army, tell us what news. For answer the newcomer turned from one to the other of his questioners with a dazed expression on his pale, drawn face. What shall I say, neighbours? he muttered at last. My horse fell out there on the Flaminion Road and I came here on foot. I have eaten nothing for a day. But they paid no attention to his wants, thronging around with almost threatening gestures and crying. What news? what news? Not of yourself, of the army, of the battle. There was no battle and there is no army, said the man, Dolly. Sergius forced his way to the front and threw one arm about the soldier, then turning to the crowd. Stand back, he cried, and give him air. Do you not see the fellow is fainting? No battle and yet no army, repeated Dessius, in a murmuring monotone, when for a moment there was silence and space around him.  Only these things and our own men falling, falling without ever a chance to strike or to see whence we were stricken. The crowd shuddered and the elephants, I did not see them, they say they are all dead. And the consul? I do not know. And then the cripple from the steps was pushed forward. Flaminius is dead, he died fighting as a Roman consul should, but you, what are you to let the pulsators at him? You should have seen how we dealt with them of the Iguzian islands. Or at Drepena sneered the horseman, roused from his lethargy by the other's taunt. That was what a patrician consul brought us to, muttered the cripple, glancing at Sergius, do you know what the Claudian did? When the sacred chickens would not eat, he cried out, then they shall drink and ordered them thrown overboard. How could soldiers win when an empires commander had first challenged the gods? And what about Flaminius ordering our standards to be dug up when they could be drawn from the earth retorted the other? Did he do that? asked several, and for a moment the feeling that had been with the cripple and against the victim of this latest disaster seemed divided. Sergius perceived only too clearly that, in the present temper of men's minds, the faintest spark could light fires of riot and murder that might leave but a heap of ashes and corpses for the Carthaginian to gain. Taking advantage of the momentary lull, he said in conciliatory tones, Flaminius neglected the auspices and disaster came upon us from his impiety, but it appears that he died like a brave soldier, and he is a whip-nave who strikes at such. As for this man, he needs succour and care. Stand aside, then, that I may take him where his once may be ministered to. There will soon be plenty of fugitives to fill your ears with tales. Not many, master, not many, murmured desius, as the young man forced away for them through the crowd. Some are taken, but most lie in the defile of Tracimenas or under the waters of the lake. Sergius hurried on, thinking of Vabo the Butcher's dream and of Verrate's, the Greek soothsayer's interpretation. End of chapter 1. Words Three days had passed since the awful news from the shore of Lake Tracimenas had plunged Rome into horror and despair. Every hour had brought in stragglers, horse, foot, fugitives from the countryside, each bearing his tail of slaughter. Crowds gathered at the gates, swarming about every newcomer, vassiferous for his story, and then cursing and threatening the tailor because it was what they knew it must be. In the atrium of Titus Manlius, Torkuatos, on the brow of the Palandine, overlooking the new way, was gathered a company of three. The aged master of the house, a type of the Roman of better days, and a worthy descendant of that Torkuatos who had won the name. His son Caius, the youth who had been with Sergius in the Forum, and Lucius Sergius himself, all were silent and serious. The elder Torkuatos sat by a square fountain ornamented with bronze dolphins that lay in the middle of the mosaic paving of the apartment. The walls were painted half yellow, half red, after the manner of Magna Grazia while round them were ranged the statues of the Malian nobles. The roof was supported in the Tuscan fashion by four beams crossing each other at right angles and including between them the open space above the fountain. It was the old man who spoke first. Do not think, my Lucius, but that I see the justice of your prayer that I wish otherwise than that Marcia should wind wool about your doorposts. Still, there is much to be said for delay. Surely these days are not auspicious ones for marriages and surely better will come. You have my pledge as had my dead friend Marcus Marcius in the matter of her name. Do you think it was nothing for me to call a daughter other than Manlia or a plebeian house at that? Yet she is Marcia. Doubt not that I will keep this word as well. I, but father, persisted Sergius. Is it not something that she should be mined to protect in time of peril? And who so able to protect as Lucius? Put in Caius, with an admiring glance, for Caius Torquatos was six years younger than his friend and admired him with all the devotion of a younger man. Has it come that her house cannot protect its women? cried the elder Torquatos. What more shameful than that our daughter should be carried thus across a Sergian threshold going like a slave to her master. He spoke proudly and sternly. Then, turning to Sergius, he went on more gently. Were you to remain in the city, my son, there might be more force in what you claim. But you will go out with one of the new legions that they will doubtless raise and you will believe an old man who says that it is not well for a soldier in the field to have a young wife at home. Sergius flushed and was silent, lest his answer should savor of pride or disrespect toward an elder. Suddenly they became conscious of a commotion in the street. Shrill cries were born to their ears and a moment later blows fell upon the outer door followed by the grinding noise as it turned upon its spivots, a freed man burst into the atrium. Titus Torquatos rose from his seat and half raised his staff as if to punish the unceremonious intrusion. Then he noted the excitement under which the man seemed to be laboring and stood stern and silent to learn what news could warrant such a breach of decorum. It is maharbal, they say, and the speaker's voice came almost in gasps, maharbal and the new medians. Not at the gates cried both young men springing to their feet but the other shook his head and went on. No, not that, not yet, but he has cut up four thousand cavalry in Umbria with Caia Centenius. The consul had sent them from Gaul. Be silent, commanded the elder Torquatos. Surely I hear the public crier in the street. Is he not summoning the Senate? Vello! He said, turning to the freed man, you are pardoned for your intrusion.  It is possible that the Republic may call for every man and though I fear Tethys Manlius Torquatos cannot strike the blows he struck in Sicily, yet even his sword might avail to pierce light armour. And he is happy in that he can give those to the state whose muscles shall suffice to drive the point through heavy buckler and breastplate. Shall it be permitted that I attend you to the Senate house? Ask Caia's. His father inclined his head and, donning the togas which slaves had brought, they hurried into the street, hardly noting that Sergius had reseated himself and was gazing absently down into the water, counting the ripples that spread from where each thread-like stream fell from its dolphin-mouth source. He did not know how long he had sat thus, nor was he perhaps altogether conscious of his motive in failing to pay the aged senator the honour of accompanying him, at least so far as the gates of the temple of Concord. Sounds came to his ears from the apartments above, the trampling of feet and bustle of preparation that told of Velo's delivery of his patron's commands. Then a woman's laugh rang through the passage that led back to the garden of the pedestal. Sergius rose and turned, just as a ghost sprang out into the atrium looking back with a laughing challenge to someone who seemed to pursue her but who hesitated to issue from the protecting darkness. What do you fear, minutiae? she cried. My father and Kias have gone and there is no one... Oh! Suddenly she became conscious of Sergius' presence and her olive cheeks flushed to a rich crimson. Then she faced him with an air of pretty defiance and went on. No one here but Lucius Sergius Fidenas, who should have business elsewhere. Sergius said nothing but continued to stand with eyes fixed thoughtfully upon her face. Her figure was tall, slender and very graceful. Her hair and eyes were dark and her features delicate and perfectly moulded. Overall was now an expression of hoidinish mirth that bespoke the complete forgetfulness of serious things that only comes to young girls. His attentive silence seemed at last to disturb her.  Surely Lucius Sergius Fidenas has not allowed my father to go to the senate house with only Kias to attend him. Lucius respects my father too much for that and too disinterestedly. It is an even more serious omission than his failure to attend the consul at Trasimines. Sergius' eyes blazed at the taunt and struggling with the answer that rose to his lips he said nothing for fear he might say too much. The girl watched him closely. Her mirth returned a little at the sight of his confusion and with her mirth came something of mercy. Oh, to be sure, his wound. I almost forgot that. Tell me, my brave Lucius did the girls bite hard when they caught you in the woods and drove you and my brave uncle to Tannis? How funny for naked girls to ambush Roman legionnaires and chase them home. Father has not spoken to uncle's nest since. He says it was his duty to have remained on the field and I suppose he thinks it was yours too instead of running away like a fox to be shut up in his hole. Sergius had recovered his composure now but his bra was clouded.  He said, and yet I know you have hard that it was the men of my manifold who carried me away senseless from the blow of a dead man. Oh, you did kill him. I remember now. She resumed with some display of interest.  I got Caius to show me about it and I was the girl. Caius did not stab me but I let the stick fall pretty hard and Caius had a sore head for two days. I meant it for you because you are trying to make an old woman of me when I am hardly a girl. Marcia began Lucius but she raised her hand warningly and went on. Do you want me to tell you why my father will not let you marry me now? There are two reasons. One is that I don't want him to and another because he thinks you must do something great to wipe out the stain of a Roman centurion even being carried away before the Gauls. That will be an easy task judging by the news we receive each day. I wish I felt as certain of the safety of the Republic as I am that my honour shall be satisfactorily vindicated. He spoke bitterly but she went on without taking note of his meaning. Lucius words, my Lucius, you will regain your honour. Father will once more receive you into his favour and by that time I shall doubtless be old enough to marry. Perhaps too old but no I must not wait so long as that. Perhaps I shall have married someone else by the time you are worthy of my favour. More probably I shall have ceased to care for the favour of living men and women.  You will be a devious miss and stand on the javelin and wear the centurion's cavernous. And then I shall mourn for you and hang so many garlands on your tomb that all the shades of your friends will be mad with jealousy. Marcia, is it possible for you to be serious? He was pale with suppressed passion and as he spoke he stepped forward and laid his hand upon her wrist. He sprang back and half raised a light staff she carried while her face flushed crimson. I will be more serious than will please you, she said, if you please me as little as you do now. Learn, I am not your wife that you should seek to restrain me and it is quite possible that I never shall be. You speak truly.  I shall be it and may the gods only avert the evils that threaten the Republic nor look upon one of the rays of the Trojan Segestes as an unworthy offering. Bending his head in respectful salutation he turned toward the entrance hall. Marcia stood silent beside the fountain and her face clouded with thought. The sound of her lover's footsteps grew fainter and fainter. She started forward as if to follow him. Then she stopped and listened. The noise of the street had drowned their echoes. The door had creaked twice on its spivots. He was gone. Then she called, Lucius. But there was no answer. Her eyes trooped with a little frown of regret. But in a moment she turned away laughing. Never mind. He cannot do anything very desperate yet and I will treat him better next time. Perhaps. End of section number two. Section three of The Lion's Brute. This is a LibriVox recording. All LibriVox recordings are in the public domain. For more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org. The Lion's Brute by Duffield Osborne. Section three. Parting. The ensuing days were pregnant with rumour and action. The waves of terror and despair that lashed over the city as blow after blow fell had now receded. The white banner that was always lowered at the approach of an enemy still spread its undulating folds above geniculum. The crops and fruit trees and vines smiled upon the hillsides. The flocks and herds browsed peacefully along the campania with never a new median pillager to disturb their serenity. And amid all there was no rumour of allied gates opened to receive the invader, no welcome from the Italians whom he had striven to conciliate. Courage returned and with courage, firmness and with firmness, confidence to endure and dare and to do, so long as invaders presumed to set foot upon the heritage of Rome. How far this new confidence was born of the news that the Carthaginian was turning aside to the west through Umbria and Piscina. How far by the rumour that Spoletum had closed her gates and repulsed his vanguard. Or how far by wrath at the tales of ravage and the numberless murders of Roman citizens that marked his line of march it would be difficult to apportion. However these, the city was now seething with energetic preparation. The Senate sat daily and into each night no word of peace was uttered all was war and revenge. Quintus Fabius Maximus was elected pro-dictator by a vote of the Commitia not dictator because that could only be done through appointment by the surviving consul then absenting all or non-new-ware. By the same power and in order to appease the commons irritated by criticisms of Flaminius, Marcus Minucius Rufus was elected master of the horse. Nor were the gods neglected. Their stimulating influence was invoked by the dictator to inspire the people with confidence while he soothed them with the intimation that Flaminius had failed rather through over-courage and neglect of divine things than through mere plebeian temerity and ignorance. Fabius took care to impress it upon all that he himself would take full warning from the lesson. He moved that the Sibyline books should be consulted and the Senate promptly acted upon the motion. These directed that a Holy Spring be proclaimed forthwith that every animal fit for sacrifice and born between the Kaylens of March and May throughout all Italy should be offered to Jupiter. Votive games were decided upon. Couches were set by the judges whereon the twelve gods should feast in splendour. Temples were vowed to Venus Arisana by the dictator himself to men by Titus Otasilius, the praetor. But with all and as Fabius put it that the immortal gods should not be overburdened with the petty affairs of mortals every care that human prudence and warcraft could suggest was taken. Walls and towers were strengthened and bridges were broken down. The inhabitants of open towns were driven into places of security and their houses and crops destroyed. Amid all the rumour came that Sibylius was hastening back from Gaul. Then that he was close at hand and finally Fabius set out to meet him sending orders in advance that the consul should come without Lictus so that the dignity of the dictatorship might stand high before the people. And when Sibylius had come in all respects as commanded then he the consul after first delivering up his legions which he had left in Ariminan was ordered to Ostia and the fleet to keep watch and ward over the Italian coast and to protect the corn ships. So all the armies of the Republic went to the Prodictator together with the authority to raise such more as he should consider needful. Two new legions in the place of those dead on the shores of Trasimenas and some thousands of poorer citizens from the tribes to man the Kinkoramies of Sibylius and the walls of Rome. Amid these days of bustle and preparation Sergius had found little difficulty in keeping his footsteps from Marsha's threshold after the first grief of the conviction that she did not love him pride came to his rescue. Should he, the head of the noblest house of the noble Sergian gents should he abase himself and submit to scornful words even from a daughter of Tocutus or yet should he as a man desire to bear the torch for an unwilling bride. These were simple questions and there was but one word that could answer them. So Sergius struggled to put Marsha from his heart until he fluttered himself that the difficult task had at last been accomplished. During this internal struggle there came also to help him word that he had been named one of the military tribunes in the new fourth legion and this wound now being almost well he threw himself headlong into the work of the Levy and of exercising his men striving to bring them to such a degree of efficiency as might win honour for himself and advantage to the Republic. Now and again twingies of the old heart pain would rack him but he obstinately attributed all depression and melancholy to the inferior quality both physically and socially of many of the new Levy's as to the account they would render of themselves when confronted by the veterans of Hannibal. At last the day of marching arrived and with it the greatest struggle of all. Suddenly a suspicion awoke within him whispering that the task he had set for himself was but poorly done that the image of Marsha still smiled unmanaged above the altar of his heart and with all his pride and strength this suspicion of his weakness was certainly enough a source of positive exaltation. Kais had been with him through much of his work for Kais served in the same Legion it was evident however that the young man had received strict orders on one subject for in all their talks the name of Marsha never passed his lips this was unlike Kais who was thought by many to be given to over much speaking and for that reason it irritated who would sooner have cut away his hand than questioned his friend concerning his sister thus the two men illogically but humanly enough continued to grow apart until with never a thought but a friendliness their intercourse became limited through sheer embarrassment to the common places of fellow soldiers who held light acquaintance with each other's names and faces as the hour drew near the city bubbled with excitement and the altars of the gods reeked with unnumbered victims especially invoked were caster, fortune, liberty and hope but above all the mighty trinity of the capital lest the pan of so great a parting with men who were about to encounter such grave dangers might sap the courage of those remaining and thence that of the new levies the dictator had wisely decreed that the army should assemble at Tiber so it happened that there was none to go now save himself and a small escort at Cavalry V Termine at the head of which was Sergius with these went Rome's last hope the cast behind which lay only ruin but for the averting favour of the gods at midday the facies would be carried forth and it lacked but an hour of the time Sergius had prepared everything his men were ready to mount at the blast of the trumpet and his household was setting order against the absence of his master he was standing within the viminal gate while an attendant held his horse close by and a little apart from the crowds of weeping women who surrounded the soldiers of the dictator's escort suddenly he felt someone pluck him by the cloak and turned quickly to see a young woman in the single tunic of a slave her dress however was a finer texture than that worn by most of her class and seemed to bespeak a rich mistress and a special favour she stood with her finger to her lips her great eyes with the importance of her mission my mistress the Lady Marsha orders that you come and bid her farewell she whispered hurriedly then she darted away among the crowd before the young tribute could make answer to an invitation so oddly worded her impulse was to show the Lady Marsha that he was not to be dismissed and sent for much less ordered back at the caprice of a girl his next was to humour the whim of a child and his third was to obey humbly and thankfully without a thought but of Marsha's beauty and his own good fortune a word to his slave and another to his horse where at the former loosed the bridle and the latter knelt for his master then came a wild gallop across the crest of the viminal hill through the ill omen street where the wicked Tulia had driven over her father's corpse into the forum and out up the new way to the house of Tauquatus throwing his reign to the porter surges entered the court of the atrium vacant and resounding to the hurried tread of his cotherny pausing for a moment and hesitating to penetrate father house he became aware that the porter had followed him like most of his class he was a man considerably past middle life and thus considered suited to the comparative ease and responsibility of his position with a freedom and carolity born of long service he began it was a word I was commanded to deliver to the most noble surges and I doubt not it would have been well and truly delivered but for his springing from his horse quickly and rushing past me it is possible that I might have come to him sooner had he not left me to take care of the animal and it needed time to summon the groom whose duty such work is therefore by Hercules man give me the message do you think I can listen all day to your gabbling quite the soldier furious within patience a faint laugh seemed to come from somewhere beyond the hallway I was about to say most noble lord pursued the porter hardly ruffled by the outburst and I trust you will pardon me if I dallyed over much but surges raised his hand then thinking better of the blow he seized the man by the throat perhaps I can shake the words out like dice from a box now for the Venus cast he cried suiting the action to the speech are you making trial of your strength that you may break more readily into Carthaginian houses remember it is soldiers with whom you are to contend surges turned quickly to see Marsha herself standing at the entrance to the hall in her eyes on her lips was malicious laughter but a little red spot on either cheek seemed to tell of some stronger feeling behind he had released the porter so quickly that the latter staggered back almost into the fountain and Marsha smiled I think I have been taking a great deal of trouble for the sake of a very discourteous person she said I sent Manusia to tell a certain soldier that I am willing to bid him farewell despite his unworthiness and he comes and nearly strangles poor old Ritas for trying to say that I was awaiting him in the Peristyle Ritas's attempt was not very successful and my time was short said I was growing alternately red and pale and so you thought to hasten his speech by closing his throat oh you are a wise man a very logical man they should have made you dictator so that you could save Italy by surrendering Rome is it to say such things that you sent for me after a pause during which he struggled against embarrassment and wrath surely not for how could I know that you were going to behave so outrageously if you will follow me we will go into the Peristyle she turned back through the passage and Sergius followed issuing a moment later into a large cloister-like court open in the middle and decorated with flowers and shrubs four rows of columns half plain half fluted supported the shed roof that protected the frescoes these covered three of the walls on the back was a garden scene so painted as to seem like a continuation of the court itself into the far distance on the right was the combat between Aeneas and Ternus and on the left a representation of the first talkatess despoiling the slaying gore of the trophy from which the family took its name and now I will tell you why I sent she had seated herself in a marble chair with wolf heads carved on the arms and her face had grown grave and thoughtful I was to tell you a dream a dream of you that I had last night her cheek flushed and Sergius' eyes sparkled you dreamt of me he said in a low voice he half traced his arms and came nearer but he held up one hand in the old imperious manner if you please I have not sent for you that you should grow presumptuous because I was unmaidenly enough to dream of so badly behaved a person as yourself it was because it I thought you should know so that the omen might be expiated Sergius had halted and was standing still his lip curled slightly I dreamt she went on after a pause that there was a wide plain with mountains about it and a river running through and it was all heaped up with dead men thousands upon thousands stripped of arms and clothing and the air was grey with vultures and the wolves and foxes were calling to each other back among the hills and I was very sad and walked daintily so that my sandals and gown might not be splashed with the blood that curdled in pools all about suddenly I came to a heap of slain whereon you were lying with a long javelin through your body so I screamed and awoke surely then you felt sorrow cried Sergius who had followed the narrative with deep interest but who seemed to consider nothing of it save the concern she had shown at his death I I she began and then as if angry with herself at the betrayer feeling and of her embarrassment she burst out I did not send foolish one that you should consider me look rather to yourself but Sergius was full of the joy of his own thoughts that I shall do my Marsha by setting my mind upon things that are better than myself the Republic you I shall put it aside together with the other that you have called me back from the march I shall consider both well expiated by the knowledge that I am not as nothing to you her face grew pale and she half rose from the chair truly I did not think about calling you back it is terrible all this and it is my doing then if you wish I shall lay it up against you cried he daily unless you promise to be cire in my house you are unfair to press me and by such means but it must be now exclaimed the young man springing forward and trying to catch her in his arms do not see I must leave you at once shall it be without a promise the blush had turned again to little anger spots as she evaded him very well she said slowly I will be cire with our art cious Sergius's face shone with exaltation and his lips parted I will be cire she resumed upon the day when Orcus sends back the dead from Asheron his expression of joy faded and indignation took its place surely this was carrying light speech too far and at such a time suddenly he realized that the dictator might already have ridden on and disgrace have fallen upon a Sergius at the very beginning of the campaign so be it I accept that omen with the others he cried sternly and turning strode out through the atrium bound it upon his horse and dashed headlong down the street before Marsha was fairly aware that he had gone from her presence end of section 3 section 4 of the lion's brood this is a LibriVox recording or LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org The Lion's Brood by Daphiel Osborne section 4 Fabius Sergius rode back to his men deeply wounded in love and pride he tried to excuse Marsha for her treatment of him for the war of her youth and of youth's thoughtlessness he blamed himself for his appropriateness and his lack of knowledge of women failings that have perhaps turned an impending victory into the defeat that now oppressed him worst of all there was no hope to remedy his or her fault a dangerous campaign lay before him and the omens that he was not one of the tremble at a flight of birds from the west or an ox with a bad liver he had always admired the spirit of that old skeptic Claudius who had drowned the chickens of Drapana though he admitted the faulty judgment in failing to realise the effect of such defiance upon ignorant semen and marines the hierarchy was necessary for the state if only to keep falls in order but for a man of family and education well he smiled it provoked him amid all his disbelief that he could not help preferring that those same omens had been more favourable pride pride was his last and truest safeguard he a descendant of the companion of Aeneas to fear the Carthaginian sword he a Roman noble about to face death for his country to waste his thoughts upon a silly girl who chose to flout him then the long clarions of the cavalry ran out and the horsemen ran to their steeds down the slope of the Viminal rode the dictator before him went the 24 axes each in its bundle of staves their bearers robed in military cloaks of purple cloth behind came a small troop of illustrious Romans his legati, his staff nominated by him and sanctioned by the state for their fame and skill in war also such senators as had elected by way of personal compliment to ride with the general and to partake as volunteers in whatever share of the war he might set for them Quintus Fabius Maximus seemed a man just passing the prime of life his figure as he sat his horse was squat rather than tall though his appearance might be due measure to the great breadth of his shoulders altogether his frame seemed one better adapted to feats of strength and endurance than for those of agility the face with its grizzled hair and beard both cut short suited well the figure that bore it dignity firmness and kindliness were in his strong and rugged outlines with less perhaps of the pride of race and rank that might have been looked for in the head of the great family whose name he bore he who was now twice dictator of the destinies of Rome for dress his purple cloak similar to those of his liptoes hung loosely from his shoulders to below his knees and opening in front disclosed a coarselet of leather overlaid with metal across chests and abdomen and embossed with bronze designs of ancient pattern and workmanship the hem of the white tunic showed below the leaven pendants that hung a foot down from his girdle the grieves were ornamented at the knees with lion's heads an armour bearer carried his master's bronze helmet with its crest of divergent red plumes such was the man upon whom Rome now depended for her saving for victory dreamed such of the unthinking as had recovered from their terror time, time, time risen the man with the deep set grey eyes upon whom they have pinned their faith hardly a strike behind him rode Marcus Minuchius Rufus tall and well built with bold coarse features of fierce roving eyes his red hair bristled from his brow and he seemed to restrain with difficulty either his steed or himself from darting forward into the lead Yonder is the sword of the Republic said one of Sergeus's men as the master of the horse rode by the escort of the man to whom he said it an old soldier of the Spanish wars only shrugged his shoulders a moment later he grunted in reply like enough but it is a shield that the Republic needs most of all then the Clarion summoned them to fall in behind the dictator's company and the troop rode out from the gate out into the broad plain away from the protecting wars fluctuent with waving stalls and from which tear dimmed eyes strove to follow them among the villas farms and orchards of the countryside away from the forum from the sacred fig tree and the black stone of Romulus away from the divine triad that kept guard over the capital beyond lay the urban mountains these, no one knows where the strange dangers that awaited them fierce vanyards with slender blades as red as the crimson borders of their white coats while Numidian riders that always fell upon the rear of Rome's battle sered phalanges of Africans veterans of 50 wars naked gold with swords that locked off a limb at every stroke Balearic slingers whose bullets spattered one's brains over the ground Cretans whose arrows could dent an ace at a hundred yards and above all overall the great mine, the unswerving unrelenting purpose that had blended all these elements into one terrible engine of destruction to move and smite and burn and ravage at the touch of a man's will the cavalry rode to and to thinking of such things great men equipped in the New Greek fashion with breastplate stout buckler and strong spear pointed at both ends what thoughts held the mind of the general none could fathom with head slightly inclined he seemed to study now the ribbons woven in the horse's mane now the small sensitive ears pricked backward and forward as the tibetan way flown sluggishly beneath as for Minucius hopeful and unimpressed by the dangers that menaced he glided here and there reigning his horse beside this senator or that lieutenant to utter a word of the safety assured to Rome and of the ruin that hung over the invader or even calling back to the foremost of the escort some rough badinage upon their gloomy looks for Minucius was a man of the people scorning patrician pride of Reis and wishing it known that in his rank he held himself no wick better than any potter of the avantine or weaver of the subura so riding thinking talking they reached Tiber where the new levees laying camped thence began the march of the army a long weary march to strike the line of the carthaginian devastators and as it rolled onward the stream of war gathered volume at down here they were joined by the legions of civilians that had marched down from Ariminum and at every point contingents of the allies poured in until even the most timid began to believe it impossible that disaster could befall and were first confident then defiant then boastful to the mind of the dictator himself however came no such change he alone knew the danger he alone knew the value of the force with which he must meet it soldiers in whose minds despite all their present spirit lingered the tradition of defeat raw levees not yet truly confident of their officers or themselves however much the sight of their numbers and their brave show might blind them to the fact that there was another side to the war and now rumours began to reach them of the enemy he was at Pritusha at Hadriana at Frantana he had set out toward Yapetia he had reached Luciria and everywhere the country was a garden before him and a desert behind only one gleam of light shone through the darkness the Apuleans submitted to ravage but they refused to save their lands by joining fortunes with the invaders at last came the day of trial the enemy was at hand scouts poured in with news of foraging parties of masses of troops on the march and at Isa the dictator ordered the camp to be pitched and fortified in the order that Roman discipline prescribed with Rampart and Ditch and States a city in embryo now it was that the boasters must stand by their boasts scarcely had the morning broke when the distant mist of the plains seemed to sparkle with myriads of glittering points seemed to thicken and become dense with clouds of dust mingled noises came to the ears of the waking legions the neighing of horses the inarticulate murmur of a multitude the dull rumble of marching men the ring of arms and accoutrements then came the order from the praetorium not to advance the standards but to man the Rampart and to repel such was not the custom of Rome to refute battle amid the ravaged lands of her allies had the heart of the dictator grown cold forthwith the pale cheeks of the boasters flushed again lips that had been compressed before the terrors they had so rashly invoked parted in wonder and complained the mist rose and the sun pierced through the settling dust there stood the enemy drawn up in order of battle across the plain and waiting for the Romans to make out their former equipment just a long dense array that seemed dark or light in spots now and again a trumpet rang out its distant note of defiance now and again some portion of the line seemed to maneuver or change front as if to tempt attack while from time to time a flurry of horsemen dark-skinned riders bending low upon the necks of wiry little steeds and urging them with shrill barbarous cries swept almost up to the ditch and brandished their darts making obscene gestures and shouting words that brought the blood to the faces of the garrison though they understood not the tongue that uttered them a circle of officers surrounded the dictator's tent some were silent and shame faced some were vociferous of their desire to be allowed to go forth and fight or at least to lead out the cavalry to chastise the insolence of slaves and barbarians all were wondering and dissatisfied few however ventured to express their full thoughts there was a something in the very mildness of the general that discouraged too direct criticism only minutious presuming perhaps on his position of second in command perhaps on his contempt for the great houses sought the dictator's presence and spoke as if half to him half to the company of officers even his first words but thinly veiled his feelings the enemy await us in line of battle my master but I do not see the red flag above your tent is it your will that the standards be advanced no Marcus it is not my will or the signal would have been displayed said Fabius calmly the troops are eager to be led out the enemy insults us up to the very ditch Italy is wasted went on minutious but as if slightly cowed by the deep grey eyes his tone seemed less aggressive Fabius paused a moment before answering and glanced around upon the lowering faces of legates and tribunes then he said it is proper query chase that I should say something to you of my plans our men are new, untried those that have seen surface have seen defeat the enemy are flushed with victory full of confidence in themselves and their general well seasoned in battle has the Republic a new army if this be lost but happily there is another side to the picture we are in our own lands our supplies are inexhaustible we receive they must take we shall wear them out in skirmishes cut off their foragers we cannot replace while we replace our losses daily and season ourselves in battle and grow to see that even Carpaginians are not immortal there was a moment of silence then minutious spoke again and while we pursue this prudent policy what becomes of the spirit of our men who see that their general dares not face the enemy what becomes of the allies who see their fields wasted and cities burned while Rome lies silent in her camps and offers no sucker Fabius is brow clouded but he spoke even more mildly than before there is much of truth in what you say Marcus but I am convinced that there is less danger in such risks than in tempting the fate of Flaminius and there are many compensations together with certain victory in the end and then the master of the horse lost control of his temper his voice rose and he cried out you are general and you command but you shall hear me when I say that I had rather have perished bravely with the Flaminius than lived to conquer in such cowardly fashion with a Fabius a murmur of half uttered applause ran around the circle but Fabius did not seem to hear it he eyed his lieutenant calmly for an instant then he said you speak truth Marcus when you say that I am general and turning his back upon Minucius he passed through the line of officers as they fell aside to give him way and proceeded slowly toward the Praetorian gate here among the soldiers discontent with the dictator's policy was as strong as it had been in the Praetorium while his expression was less governed by the amenities of rank Roman discipline however severe acts of the legionary put very few restrictions upon his speech and the general as he watched from the rampart the lines and movements of the enemy heard many comments no less uncomplementary than those of his master of the horse and couched in language almost as coarse as that of the Numidians themselves it seemed as if the foul words of the barbarians were passed on thus to the man held responsible for Romans compelled to listen to such insults curiously enough the centurions and under officers appeared to be the only ones not hostile to Fabius's policy these were silent or even made some efforts to restrain the ribaldry of the men as for the general himself no one could have appeared less conscious of the storm his orders have provoked his eyes were still fixed upon the distant array and when as the sun almost touched the meridian Lucius Sergius approached with dispatches just arrived from Rome he was compelled to speak twice before the other was aware of his presence then the dictator turned quickly and pointing to the Carthaginians exclaimed see they are withdrawing do not note how thin the centre goes I shall teach them new lessons of war new lessons they will find in me no Flaminius to let my enemy choose the day and field of battle leaving the ramparts they walked back towards the praetorium Fabius breaking the seals and reading the letters as he walked when they reached the tent he stood still for a moment and seemed to study the face of the young tribune who had followed a half pace behind to receive any answer or order that might be forthcoming what is your opinion of by refusing battle he asked suddenly after a short silence Sergius turned crimson but he answered quickly I have learned to trust in my general until such time as I know him to be unworthy of trust Fabius smiled some of your colleagues appear to have already arrived at the latter conclusion he said then after a pause he went on after all it is the judgement of the centurions that counts for most our legates and tribunes they are disgraced by our refusing a challenge they may be sneered at for that but who would blame them for the defeat that might follow its acceptance the common soldier knows only his rage against the enemy sees his comrades about him furious for battle and comprehends nothing of its dangers it is the centurions our veterans who realise the truth the worth of their own men as measured against those of the enemy puffed up with foolish pride of rank you observe sir that the centurions are with me Sergius bowed now mark well what will happen pursued Fabius Hannibal will retreat to his camp he will break the camp and march off during the night he must have forage and he cannot scatter his forces while I am near he will escape and I shall let him rather than risk the army in a night battle but I shall hang close as the father wolf to the stag's haunch keeping nevertheless to the high ground where his cavalry cannot trouble me there will be need of good horsemen who can cling yet closer and advise me of his movements Sergius his eyes flashed with eagerness but he said nothing you will attend to this service continued Fabius not seeming to regard the young officer's exhortation take the other five termae of your legion not those of the escort you must have light cavalry to cope with the Numidians and your Greek horsemen are too heavily equipped assemble your men watch the enemy follow him when he marches tonight cut off his stragglers and send such words to me as you consider necessary this shall be your reward for trusting greater things to your general turning he entered the tent before the tribune express his thanks deeply impressed by the favour and confidence of the dictator Sergius hurried away to his quarters and sending for Marcus Desius the Decurion who had told the news of Tresimines to the crowd of the Forum he directed him to see that the horses were fed and the men in readiness for the night march when he resigned himself to sleep and dreams of a certain pictured peristyle on the Palatine Hill a peristyle wherein a maid sat spinning by frowning and thinking of what perhaps of him but he was only dreaming and maidens do not always think as men dream End of Section 4 Blue of Albertville the night was already far spent and the Roman camp slept on secure in all its grim array silent but for the tread of the patrols as they paced the streets and exchanged the watchword post with post or but for the clang of sword upon grieve or shield against curas and Triathgate, Rampart or Praetorium shifted his arms in wary waiting for the day far up in the heavens the moon shone silvery and serene while here and there upon the plain below swaying points of light seemed to move flicker go out and rekindle again no Roman watcher but knew well that play of moonlight upon the heads of the reed-like spears with which the ancient cavalry of the legion were equipped weapons which together with their oxide bucklers were being gradually superseded by the heavier Greek accoutre-mall yes and had not the word passed from the guard at the Praetorium gate how a tribune and five termae of the fourth legion had ridden out on the service of the dictator earlier in the night those who listened closely had heard a low hum that seemed to pervade the air rising and falling like the dull glow in the west that told of the fluctuate watchfires of the hostile camp now the noises had died away as in the distance and the light that had flashed up a few hours since hardly tinted the clouds it is only the old soldier who can read the signs of a decamping foe who knows how the faggots must be heaped at the moment of departure so that the deserted fires may burn until the morning whose quick ear catches and recognizes the indefinite noises of a host moving in secret all these things were and old campaigners among the legionnaires at the gate had read them a rite messenger after messenger hurried to the praetorium and returned with word that the dictators slept having taken all needed measures and how the master of the horse paced up and down before his tent grinding his teeth, clenching his hands and muttering curses upon patrician cowardice and imbecility meanwhile lucis surgius rode on through the night with marcus desius at his side the troop of horse trailing out across the plain behind them it is silent master said the decurion but his attitude as he leaned forward over his horse's neck was rather of one trying to smell than to listen the pulsators sleep deeply he watched surgius from under his half closed lids waiting to be contradicted that he might measure his officers warcraft surgius smiled perhaps they are even wider awake than ourselves he said drawing rain the other nodded several times in satisfied acquiescence he brought his horse to his haunches astride beyond and added it was the dictator who said we should find their lair empty and though I do not question his judgment it will be well to send on a few who shall spy out the fact and see whether there be not numidians lurking among the huts so slowly and cautiously they pushed forward again with riders in advance until a shout gave notice that the way was indeed clear and they rode through the open gate of the rampart and along the silent street of the deserted camp nothing was about them save dismantled huts for the most part mere burrows with roofs of interlaced boughs that were now smoking amid the ashes of the fires not a sign of disorder nor even of the rapidity with which so great an army had been moved not a scale of armor left behind only the insufferable stench of a barbarian camp of Jews piled or scattered about of dead beasts and of dead men the sick and wounded who had yielded to sword or disease during the last few days it was with a sense of relief that the cavalcade emerged from the shadows of the huts and began to mount the rising ground beyond the moon too had grown faint and the greatness of the morning were lying along the lower levels sounds mingled in far ahead told of the presence of a marching host and Sergius led his troop on a more oblique course to gain the flank of the foe and lessen the chances of detection and ambush God it was not stirring work for a soldier the days that followed never attacking always guarding against discovery and surprise viewing slaughter and devastation that duty and weakness alike made him powerless to prevent or punish sending courier after courier to his general to tell of the enemy's march or of stragglers and foragers to be crushed in the jaws of the army that enveloped the invaders rear thus the war passed through Apulia over the Apennines down into the old Samnite lands past Beneventum that closed its gates and mourned over its devastated fields on across the Volturnus descending at last into the Fallenian plain the glory of Campania the paradise of Italian wealth and luxury during all these days Sergius had grown thinner and browner had been ploughed between his eyes that must pierce every ridge and thicket for the glint of javelins and the wild faces of the brideless riders of the desert from time to time news of devastators cut to pieces brought a fierce joy to his heart from time to time he dreamt he saw the eagles of the republic hovering upon the heights above ready to stoop and strike and save the allied lands from trials greater than they could bear but of Marcia scarce-awaking thought surely the man he was now had never reclined in peaceful halls where women plied the distaff and talked about love and of how Rebulius the perfume maker of the subura had just received a new essence from Arabia that old life was all a dream perhaps the memory of a former existence as the sage of Croton had thought there was nothing real in the world in these days but fear and suffering and humiliation and revenge even duty had become a mere habit that should minister to greater influences and now it was worst of all Campania was a conflagration from which rose supplications and shrieks and groans mingled with curses against the cowardly ally that had left her to her fate still the legions held to the high ground and still the black pest of Numidia swept hither and thither on its errand of murder and rapine even to Sergius the plans of the dictator began to seem but coined lead as Marcus Dessius roughly put it of what avail was it that the pass at Teresina was blocked that he had a garrisoned castle in him in the enemy's rear and Kale's upon the Latin way and that the sea and the Volternus and the steep hills with their guarded passes seem to complete the line of circumvalation could such bonds hold one so wise as Hannibal from the rich cities of the plain unless Rome would advance her standards Sinuessa and Cume, Putioli and Neopolis Nusseria and Tinum and above all Capua left to fight their own little battle against barbarian insolence and barbarian power what hope to starve out an enemy established in such a region and amid such affluence then too there was less work now for Sergius even such as it was the enemy where so ever he marched was well in view from a dozen points held by the dictator and at last word came to the tribune that he should join the camp near Casillinum there at least he would have companionship and shame instead of seeming to command men and being unwilling to lead them to fight for lands which the gods themselves had deemed worthy of their contention they were near Calus when the orders were brought could it be the dictator's intention to give battle and avenge what he had failed to save by midday they were mounted and threading the forest paths that led to his comrades paths went from time to time some vista in the woods disclosed the plain below with here and there a column of smoke that made Sergius grind his teeth and clench his hands in impotent rage suddenly he drew rain for a man dressed in the coarse gray tunic of a slave had half run half stumbled across his way an instant more and the fellow was struggling in the grasp of desius who had sprung to the ground what now fork bearer light of the scourges will you delay the march of a tribune of the republic pity me master pity me and let me go cried the man still striving vainly to escape sure they are close behind me who are you ask sergius sterly speak and lie not food for our chair and they who are burning the farm sergius's eyes glittered and he leaned forward to catch the words as he began to gather their import speak quickly so be safe he said in more reassuring tones whose farm is it that is burning loose him marcus release from the hands that held him the fugitive seemed to waver for a moment between speech and flight perhaps exhaustion turned the balance or still panting for breath he threw himself on his knees before sergius's bridle and gasped my master's farm a veteran of the first war a centurion the numidians where is it how many are there the man pointed down the slope up which he had scrambled I did not note their numbers lord perhaps a hundred perhaps more as he spoke the sky began to brighten as with fire and sergius wheeling his horse urged him downward toward the plane desius was by his side in an instant and behind them came the cavalry at a speed that threatened to hurl them headlong into the foot of the rocky declivity joy and fury shown on the faces of the men only marcus desius seemed troubled and distracted we shall be with them soon my marcus cried sergius gaily and then noting the furrowed face of his first decurion surely tracemenis has not cooled your heart take courage there's no water here to chill you desius flushed through the deep bronze of his skin it is true that there's no water here and blows might warm my blood it was the command of the dictator that I thought of they had reached a cluster of burning buildings hardly a mile ahead mark their goal and is it you marcus who have been railing at those same commands I am an old soldier my master I growl but I obey for answer sergius urged on his horse with me and thong now they could distinguish dark shapes gliding hither and thither around the fires and now they burst in upon a scene of the orgies of demons utterly unsuspicious of danger the marauders had taken no precautions their wiry little horses had been turned loose about the gardens while the riders murdered and pillaged and ravished and destroyed the worst was over now little remained of the buildings save clay walls covered with plaster dead bodies were scattered here and there the women and such of the slaves as had not been slaughtered together with the farm stock and other things of value were gathered beyond the reach of the fires while bound high upon a rude cross their own threshold the master of the farm writhed amid flames that shot upward to lick his hands and face then in an instant the scene was changed the roman horsemen burst in and frenzied by the spectacle before them slew madly and fast hither and thither they swept wherever the duskies figures sought to fly and the thin reed-like lances rose and plunged and rose again shivering and dripping from the bodies of their victims but for their well-trained steeds they knelt at their master's calls not one of the desert horsemen could have escaped and as it was a mere dozen broke out from the carnage and scurried away with the avengers in close and relentless pursuit marcus desi has paused a moment before the cross and studied the torn frame and blackened skin of the man who hung there then with a swift movement of his lance he transfixed the quivering body and hardly catching the jove bless thee comrade and the sigh with which life escaped he dashed on after the pursuing squadrons end of section five recording by violet blue of albertville section six of the lions brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by violet blue of albertville section six disobedience that the chase was doomed to be a vain one seemed apparent once mounted and urging on their steeds with the shrill barbaric cries of the desert Hannibal's light horsemen were safe from all ordinary pursuit one after another of the romans drew up his panting animal and scarce half of their term a pounded on suddenly they saw the flying numidians throw their horses upon their haunches a moment of indecision followed and then while several darted off obliquely the remainder seven or eight in all swung around and charged straight at the legionnaires at their head wrote a giant black as ebony save where gouts of red had splashed him with the hue of terror his frisley hair was caught up high and ornamented with the cluster of ostrich feathers while with his right hand he drew javelin after javelin from the sheaf he carried left and launch them with unerring aim at his former pursuers three had flown on their errands two had brought down a soldier each and the third quivered in the throat of surgeus's horse then as the animal reared and went over carrying his rider with him the assailant burst through the line and in a moment had gained the open plane beyond once more he was safe but for one short thick set rider marcus desius first decurion of the first terma to overtake his troop escape from such a pursuer was child's play for the numidian but the fury of the fight was on him and gnashing his white teeth from which the thick black lips seemed to ride away he bent low amid his horse's mane and with an inarticulate cry urged him straight at the veteran his javelins had all been expended in breaking through the roman line and a short heavy dagger was his only weapon nothing daunted he came on evaded like a flash the thrust of desius's spear and hurled himself upon him it was the small buckler of the roman that saved his life the dagger passed through the oxides like the gashing his arm and before the barbarian could withdraw at the impact of the horses in full career had sent both men and animals to the plane in a floundering heap again the numidian was quicker and gaining his feet he sprang weaponless as he was upon the decurion still struggling to untangle himself from his fallen horse the buckler with the african's knife thrust through it had rolled away and the possession of desius's sword which hung in its sheath upon his right thigh became the object of the struggle perhaps the strength of the men was not very unequal but the roman hardly free from his mount was undermost and wounded so that the result seemed hardly doubtful the numidians charger had risen to his feet and stood with outstretched neck whinnying softly as if sharing in the excitement of the contest then the trampling of hooves sounded in the ears of the straining combatants desius felt his adversary make a convulsive effort as if to free himself and then a gush of something warm came into the roman's face and his foe sank down upon him limp and helpless with a last effort of his spent strength he pushed the twitching body aside and staggered to his feet saw sergius standing behind him with a dripping sword in his hand and the bridle of titus asilius's the flagbearers horse thrown over his arm remounting they rode slowly back to their troop and then the pause of the strange boldness of the fugitives was disclosed advancing across the plane directly in the path of their flight came four hundred of the allied cavalry whom the dictator had sent out to reconatra and caught thus between two lines the numidians had for the most part chosen to take their chances against the weaker force not one of the marauders was alive but they had sold their lives dearly for a dozen of the roman's were also dead and a score more showed wounds that marked this last spasm of barbarian frenzy while the men talked together sergius sought the prefect of the new detachment a hostilian of the family of mancanus whom he recalled among the young hotheads that formed the party of the master of the horse and acclaimed against the policy of fabius as cowardly and base he found him in the best possible humor laughing and making coarse arrests amid a circle of daquirians and optios as rude a roman as marched with the standards yet able when occasion demanded to play the man of fashion who had spent a year at Athens the latter mood fell upon him when he described sergius he came forward to meet him health to you my luscious he cried surely the gods have held you in a special favor this day I am told you have cut up a few squadrons of this african offal with your timely aid replied sergius bowing I but made the hairs double to your coursing said hostilius carelessly and they tell me you have won both the spolia opima and the civic crown that is a great deal for one day and under a peaceful dictator sergius flushed I shall not claim them he said doubtless desius would have both slain the fellow and saved himself had I not come up no modesty cried hostilius gaily I assure you it is even less greek than roman in these days though now I myself will claim both for you at Rome if only to show that I do not grudge you your share of the carion perhaps such honors will not prejudice you in a certain house on the palatine he added slyly but come you and I shall join our forces and raid together we have sent 200 to acheron since we left the camp and birds have been singing on our left all the morning where is the dictator now asked sergius in tent of course replied the other scornfully and no one cares where that may be and you he was persuaded at last to risk a scouting party and at the request of the brave menisius he gave the command to me with strict injunctions to use only my eyes well I have used them so sharply that my hands too have been full said hostilius and hostilius laughed there are some 500 of the cross food that have evaded me thus far and together it will be easy for us to prevail sergius was silent to make a dash from the heights and defensive allies dying in his sight was one thing to deliberately join this insubordinate in turning of reconnaissance into a raid was another and much more serious matter the prefect noted his hesitation and a slight frown chase the smile from his lips or perhaps you prefer to obey the old woman's orders he added and keep your couch warm well our men and horses are fed by this time and I am off if you are a Roman I agreed you to ride with me if you fear robbers or the acts that smote Titus Manlius why I will bid you farewell and ride alone where do you set your course queried sergius with a vague hope of at least seeming to combine inclination with duty toward the enemy replied the other shortly does not the direction please you and he turned to his horse sergius's brow clouded his blood was hot with the conflict just finished youth courage all combined to turn him from obedience but obedience paid fair to conquer when Marsha's laugh rang in his ears and he could hear her gravely complimenting his prudence and discoursing on the rare value of docility in a husband besides what did it all matter had he not said that he sought death and surely the way it came soonest was the best placing his hand upon his horse's withers he vaulted upon its back before the animal had time to kneel and a moment later was beside hostilius by hercules exclaimed the latter I am glad you are here even in these days of strange things I would have found it difficult to imagine that a surgeon could be a coward and now cried sergius you will only have to imagine him a fool so be it and let the cost of his life pay for his folly jupiter avert the omen exclaimed hostilius shuttering and then turning to his trumpeter he bade him give the signal for the march it was a desolate country the fair planes of campania through which they rode here and there a cluster of black and ruins here and there things that were once men fruit trees cut down vines uprooted cornfields reaped with the sword while far away upon the horizon smoky columns curled up to show that the work of devastation still went on may mavers curse him curse him forever cried hostilius grinding his teeth and rage at each new manifestation of the enemy's handiwork could the most disastrous battle be worse than this sergius was silent in a way his feelings went out to meet those of his companion but the dictator had trusted him and he had disobeyed and for all his disobedience his soldiers instinct told him that the dictator was right hostilius eyed him sharply and suspiciously as if trying to divine his thoughts if you regret he began suddenly a da curian with the allies dashed up beside them look he cried pointing toward the east there's carrion for the wolves both leaders turned at the words far out across the plain was what seemed at first sight like a clump of dark foliage save that it moved and changed shape too much numidians exclaimed the da curian following his finger with his speech while the veins in hostilius his forehead began to swell and grow dark the signal he cried let it be given he cried to his officer and turning he dug his knees into his horse's sides and galloped toward the distant quarry a moment later the cavalry wheeled at the trumpet call and in some disorder but full of eagerness began the pursuit of their leader as for sergius he too gave order and reign though more deliberately and his troop followed the cavalry of the allies in somewhat better array by his side galloped desius with an expression hard to analyze upon his weather beaten face sergius glanced at the old soldier from time to time with a look of inquiry and concern at last he ventured to question his grim mentor is it well or ill marcus I'll for you that command well for me who obey growled the other and sergius flushed and was silent shall we catch them he asked a few moments later for the clump of numidians who had sat motionless upon their horses until the romans covered half the intervening distance had now wheeled for flight may be too strong for us we shall catch them replied desius it is as they will and now it became apparent that the marauders were far inferior in numbers to the assailants and that they recognized the fact for flight and pursuit began in earnest horses were urged at higher speed at one moment the numidians seemed to be holding their distance at another the romans gained slightly but unmistakably all order of detachments and termae was soon lost romans and allies officers and men were mingled together in a straggled mass with not but the eagerness of the riders and the speed of their animals to marshal them only desius continued to pound along with his horses nose at his tribunes elbow the thunder of many hundred hoofs rolled across the plane by hercules we shall do it cried sergius in whom ardor of the chase had put to flight all sentiments of regret or doubt do you not see we are gaining they ride silently yet sedesius it is but knee speed with them wait till they cry out to their horses and we shall see suddenly as if to supplement the words a single shrill cry half whistle half scream rose up ahead had they been closer they might have noted the pricking ears of the desert steeds but this much they saw one horse and rider darting out of the press like arrow from bow and scurrying away over the plane as if their former gate had been but a hand gallop an instant of misgiving came to some few of the romans who were not blind to everything but the excitement of the moment but they like the rest only applied me and thong harder and the episode of the single rider was forgotten by all save marcus desius and sergius it is a trap master said the former with an inquiring glance at his leader sergius bowed his head and his face was troubled as he replied I know it my marcus but we cannot turn back now I have accepted the feast therefore I must recline until my host gives the signal to rise I pray you pardon me by a quick movement desius urged his horse a stride ahead of the tribunes that he might the better hide his emotion at the same time growling I pardon you and for the chance of a blow at the scum I thank you many times and now from the plane ahead rose a low range of rolling hills over which a light cloud seemed to hover was it the ascent that wary the horses of the numidians surely the space between pursuers and pursued was lessening rapidly and hostilius leaned forward shaking his spear and calling upon his men for a renewed effort now now he cried see they are spent up with them ere they top the hill but numidians gained the sought for ridge if only by a few spear lengths lead and the cloud now close ahead hung so dense that there were those who thought it the smoke of another farm desius's eyes seemed yet in a daze stare there was too much red in that cloud and yet it was not the red of fire and it was too light and too thin for smoke he knew it he had known it all along but what did it matter the last numidian had disappeared down the opposite slope no surely they had turned again and in a longer line a thicker one and glittering javelins and naked black bodies had become long stout spears and glittering coarselets while at their head rode a slender man with forked beard and his black eyes seemed to burn in his head like coals so with one barbaric roar the whole array poured down over the allied cavalry and these were like the dust of the trampled field end of section 6 recording by violet blue of albertville section 7 of the lions brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain if you have more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org recording by violet blue of albertville the lions brood by duffield osborne section 7 punishment sergius hardly knew what was happening he was conscious that the stride of his horse had been checked by a dense mass of plunging animals in front a mass that grew more dense and more tangled with every instant those behind were still endeavoring to press forward and those in front were hurled back upon them or were striving frantically to break through the rearmost squadrons and escape while shrill above the clash of arms and the shouts and screams rose a name that sergius found himself listening to with a sort of curious interest maharbal maharbal came to cry nearer and nearer at the first moment of the check marcus desius had pushed the sturdy horse that he rode well to the fore he saw hostilius riding back waving one arm and crying out incoherent words his spear was gone and the head of a spaniard's lance had been thrust through his shoulder and broken off so that a third of the shaft hung from the wound then what had happened and the hopelessness of it all became apparent like the various fools they had ridden into the snare and maharbal the carthaginian with at least two thousand spanish and african horsemen was wandering on their front and flanks their front but in a moment their rear for now those who had not been ridden down at the first onset or become inextricably entangled with their fellows broke away over the plane carrying their officers with them in a mad frenzy of flight while other numidians fresh riders on fresh steeds urged the pursuit and smote down the hindermost desius found himself riding in the middle of the press his face was perturbable as ever though he glanced over his shoulder from time to time to note how much nearer death had come surgius galloped close behind him careless and abstracted his reign flying loose on his chargers steaming neck then of a sudden a resolve seemed to come to him straightening himself he urged the wary horse forward through the fugitives till he drew up even with hostilius who still frantic with panic was now swaying in his saddle from the pain loss of blood surgius leaned over and laid his hand upon the other's arm and hostilius started as if he had touched a serpent then he became calmer and a troubled look was in the eyes that sought the tribune's face yes I know he said at last speaking hurriedly and in odd strained accents I led you to it and now I am flying let us turn back said surgius mildly I do not reproach you but let us turn back better than the rods and axe hostilius shuttered and at that moment desius who had overtaken them broke in with by hercules there's no fear of those they cut us down in flight the choice is shall we have it in the face or between the shoulders by the gods of Rome then shouted the prefect suddenly reigning up while surgius and desius swung their horses in short circles there was no trumpet to give the signal and the little cavalry banner had gone down long ago but such was the force of roman training that nearly all of surgius's men and half of the allies turned in mid-panic with their leaders to make head much less to form was impossible for the foremost of the enemy were well mingled with the rearmost fugitives as desius had said it was only a choice of deaths the one swift and honorable the other more lingering but nonetheless inevitable almost in a moment it was over between two and three hundred of the united detachments had fallen already and the hundred or so that now sought to face about went down in a crushed and bleeding mass under the thousands of hooves that overwhelmed them such was the weight and impetus of the pursuing force that there was no time even to strike and most of the victims fell unwounded by spear or javelin surgius was vaguely conscious that he had seen the prefect cloven through the head by the short half his own horse seemed to collapse under him and that was the end then he knew it was dark and cold and that there was a howling in the air as of beasts of prey and the shadow of a man fell across him for the moon was in the heavens and the man was cursing by all the gods of the capital gradually consciousness returned and he recalled incident by incident the happenings of the past day he had been lying still thus far without further wish than to look up at the stars think and listen to what he now knew was the distant howling of wolves and the nearer curses of Marcus Dessius at last he stirred slightly and the Decurion turned and looked down do you live master yes truly replied surgius unless you chance to be a shade then he struggled to his feet and the two gays silently at each other and around them all about in the moonlight lay the bodies of horses and men the latter glittering in their white tunics save here and there an officer whose helmet and breast plate had seemed to mark out his corpse for stripping and nameless desecrations surgius's headpiece was gone but he glanced at his own coarselet and then at Dessius we were buried together under a heap of dead said the latter in answer to the unasked query they made haste in their spoiling and when they had gone I drew myself free and found you the wolves are feasting well tonight can you walk Dessius moved stiffly a few steps he felt bruised from head to foot and one arm hung useless from a dislocated shoulder but he found no wound Dessius had not escaped so lightly besides the gash he had received earlier in the day he had been cut again across the forehead but his prodigious strength seemed to have an inexhaustible resources to draw upon come he said we must go southward as quickly as possible surgius still walked slowly about glancing at one corpse after another until the Decurion at last dividing his thought broke in roughly come the wolves must provide him sepulcher as they will do better for men what would he have the she-wolf suckled the twins let hostilius pay the debt by feeding the she-wolf's cubs by Hercules other sepulcher for him means need of one for ourselves so speaking he at last drew surgius away and they began their weary tramp across the field if I could have seen but one pulse-eater among the slain said the tribune after they had gone some distance in silence I know of one that should be dead remark Dessius grimly if a spear through his midriff be enough for him truly the ancient shafts are useless in close fight save for a single thrust I for one welcome the Greek equipment and the sooner the better suddenly surgius stopped and laid his hand upon his comrade's arm look he said a long low rampart seemed to rise up from the plane two hundred yards ahead their camp said the Decurian after a short pause and deserted let us go forward cautiously perhaps we shall find food step by step they crept up walking faster and more erect as they drew nearer and as the evidence that life was not there became more apparent they have left it only tonight said Dessius clamoring up the mound of earth and sniffing the air had it been a day old we should have smelt and go though the wind blows from us then as they descended and traverse the silent lanes a puzzled expression came to his face and he halted from time to time Sergius eyed him inquiringly do you not smell fresh blood said the veteran at last I remember when we marched with Lucius Emilius after the Gauls had beaten the Praetor's army at Clusium there were ten thousand men just slain and the air was salt like a sea by Jupiter what is this resuming their advance they had come upon a space of open ground near the center of the camp doubtless the spot reserved for a market but what meat was it that combered the shambles without buyer or seller piled in ghastly heaps or covering the ground two or three deep lay a fresh reaped harvest of corpses stripped, disordered, gleaming in the moonlight could it be that the camp had been taken but these were no African dead was this a Roman camp there was a set deliberation too about the slaughter that told no tale of battle suddenly desys cried out and stooping down raised the hands of one of the victims hands upon which the shackles still hung slaves murmured Sergius but why say rather prisoners said the centurion grimly Sergius struck his thigh it was all clear to him now may the plague fall upon him to a thousand crosses do you not see he is escaping he has made for the passes and slain his prisoners that they may not hamper his march who knows but that by now he is on the road to Rome gods this was hostilius's duty and mine and we wasted our time and our men on a few score of miserable numidians come my Marcus come there are no such things as wounds or weariness or caution we must reach the dictator at once and may the gods grant that it be not too late Marcus desius had been gazing gloomily at the young man as the words burst from his lips where shall we go and how he said with a despairing gesture on our feet cried Sergius did I not say that weariness and wounds were not it is for the life of the republic I to the camp near Casillinum you to Taracina they will march by the apian or the latin way if they strike the Rome if not the plan may not be fatal desius yielded to the decision of his companion and with hasty fingers they unlaced each other's corsets and hurried out of the camp each to run his race with what strength remained the last clasp of hands had been given and received when far away on the hills east to northeast the quick eye of Sergius caught the gleam of a rapidly moving torch then another and another and another seemed to flame out in the night like stars when the moon has failed until the whole range of heights blazed with fires that flashed and danced and crossed and recrossed each other in mad confusion as if all the thronging bacchanals of Greece had assembled for one frenzy orgy dazed and confounded by the spectacle as grand as it was weird and unexplainable they stood spellbound powerless each to take their first stride desius the older man the veteran turned to his companion yielding that unconscious homage to birth and rank and education that comes in the presence of unknown perils no experience of war could help him here and his mind leaped at once to the supernatural for an explanation as for the tribune such thoughts at least had not occurred to him greek septicism had already gained too strong a hold upon young romans of rank to let them regard the theology of the state other than as a machinery devised by wise men to control an ignorant rabble besides his mind had taken another direction from the discovery of the slaughter of the prisoners and human like it ran on its channel right or wrong desius was trembling violently truly master the gods of carthage are loose tonight said he there was even a little of contempt in the glance with which sergius noted the abject terror of the sturdy veteran utterly at a loss to explain the apparitions he never doubted for a moment that they were the product of some human while come he said shortly the gods of carthage have favored us in lighting the way first of all we shall go together and learn the truth without waiting for reply he set off at an easy loping gate in the direction of the strange fires desius followed as he would have followed through the portals of avarice the distance to the heights was not great four or five miles at the utmost but half an hour had passed and still the spectacle wilder and more brilliant than ever remained unexplained for a stretch of miles the hills above beyond and below were all ablaze with rushing flames that seemed guided by no sentient agency then suddenly a single torch glanced out from the small grove of trees a short distance ahead and darted diagonally across their path desius stopped for an instant with trembling knees but sergius bounded forward to intercept the torchbearer and the veteran followed from sheer shame down to the ground up again and then around in frantic waving circles swept the flame a mad bellowing rolled through the night until the tribune himself almost checked his stride in off-struck wonder the next instant the torch if torch it was seemed to flounder to the earth from which it rose again and came driving directly toward him explained at last an ox with a great bundle of blazing faggots fastened between its horns blinded frantic with pain and terror sergius sprang aside as the beast dashed by but desius roused once more to the possibility of independent thought and action stepped toward it and as it passed plunged his sword between its heaving ribs what now my master he said flushing with shame at his fears of the last hour perhaps the bravest hour of his life does the lying carthaginian seek to terrify quintus fabius the dictator as he terrified marcus desius the dichurian yes truly replied sergius gloomily and he will succeed even better no general and at least of all hours would lead out his army in the night against such a spectacle come it is necessary that we should reach the camp and turning once again they fell to running in a more southern direction where a dim glow in the sky seemed to tell of the watchfires of an army at first no sound broke the stillness of the night save the labored breathing of the wary runners and the strokes of their leather coturni upon the hard ground but soon other noises came to mingle with these and at last to drown them the lowing of thousands of cattle now scattered far and wide over the plain and hillsides and then the distant clash of arms and the cries of combatants day began to dawn just as the fugitives came inside of the roman camp with the army drawn up behind its ramparts waiting for they knew not what here and there upon the heights they could see small bodies of legionnaires who defended themselves against light troops from the enemy until overwhelmed by the Spanish infantry that scaled the hills and cut them to pieces meanwhile to every prayer that the dictator should march out to their support he returned one grim answer they deserted their posts in the passes Rome needs not such soldiers so company by company the guards of the defiles terrified or lured away by the ridges of the ruse of cattle and the blazing faggots fell gloriously before their comrades' eyes as being men not worth the effort to sucker the rear guard of the invaders had already made its way through the pass while the Carthaginian van was well on into the valley of the Volturnus now to the African light troops disappeared and at last the white tunics of the Spaniards gay with their purple borders glittered for a moment on the hilltops and then their work of death completed, sank away behind the ridges to fall back and join their comrades in a march of new destruction through a new country End of Section 7 Section 8 of the Lions Brood this is a LibriVox recording all LibriVox recordings are in the public domain for more information or to volunteer please visit LibriVox.org Recording by Shashank Jagmola The Lions Brood by Duffield Osborne Disgrace While these things were happening for the most part in the sight of all Sergius had been able to gain a moment's speech with the dictator forcing his way through the crowd of tribunes and officers who thronged the Praetorium he had found Fabius seated before his tent and had told his story in the fewest word possible naked but for his torn tunic and his Cthurni covered from head to foot with blood and mire his left arm hanging useless and his face like the face of a dead man neither his miserable plight nor his story brought softness to the stern lips and brow of the general you have come to tell me this he said when the other had finished speaking do I not know it now and he pointed to the heights then he turned away and spoke with someone at his side while Sergius stood with downcast eyes swaving and scarcely able to keep his feet among those around him his fate seemed hardly a matter of conjecture but a thrill went through the company when minutious who had been vainly arguing the dictator to support the guards of the passes now turned away and discussed and noting the disgraced officer as if for the first time cried out in a loud voice what my friend have not the lictors attended to you yet for venturing to play the man Sergius felt the danger to which the master of the horse had exposed him by using in subordination to point such a model to his commander but the face of the dictator gave no sign that he had even heard the taunting challenge calmly he gave his orders for cautious scouting for breaking camp and for the army to resume its patient march of observation along the flank of the retiring foe then when one after another had retired to fulfill his commands he turned again to the waiting tribune I have been considering your fault he said slowly and I had marked you out as a much needed victim for the rodzenax go to my master of the horse and thank him for your life his taunt was doubtless meant to destroy you in order that he might play the demagogue over your fate I accept it as a challenge to myself control it is more necessary I should show myself wise and forbearing than that one fool should perish for his folly go back to Rome and tell them that I have many soldiers who can fight and that I want only those who can obey utterly exhausted Sergius struggled vainly to withstand this last crushing blow his composure was unequal to the task and sinking upon his knees as the dictator turned toward the tent he could only stretch out one hand and murmur the axe master I pray you the axe Fabius paused a moment and eyed him grimly then his rugged very face softened slightly I trusted you he said could you not trust me for a little while but go to Rome as I bid you only there shall others go with you and you shall bear for your message instead of that one this that there is no room for wounded men in my camp but I shall be well in two days in one I am well now if you say it Fabius shook his head slowly Esculapius has not been unhonoured by me he said and he has told me that you will be but a burden for many days for this reason go to Rome and for two others that you shall not tell off one for punishment because you could not obey and one because the time will come soon when Rome shall need even the men who can only fight Sergius saw the hopelessness of struggling against his softened fate bitter though it was open disgrace indeed had been turned aside but on the other hand he was doomed to inaction during times when all Rome longed only to strike and he could not but feel that he had fallen far in the estimation of his general End of section number 8