At length Aletrium came in view, a little town in a strong position
on the mountain side, its walls and citadel built in old time, long
unused for defence, but resisting ages with their cyclopean force.
On arriving, they found a scene of disorder, misery and fear. This
morning the place had been attacked by a brigand horde, which had
ravaged at will: the church was robbed of its sacred vessels, the
beasts of burden were driven away, and, worst of all, wives and
daughters of the defenceless townsmen had suffered outrage. Marcian,
with that air of authority which he well knew how to assume,
commanded the attendance of the leading citizens and spoke with them
in private. Finding them eager for the arrival of the Goths, to whom
they looked rather than to the distant Greeks for protection against
ruinous disorder (already they had despatched messengers to Totila
entreating his aid), he made known to them that he was travelling to
meet the Gothic outposts, and promised to hasten the king's advance.
At present, there seemed to be no more danger, the marauders having
gone on into the Apennines; so Marcian obtained lodging for
Veranilda and for himself in the priest's house.
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