A few hours' travel, and, drenched with the furious rain, he came to
Aesernia. This town stood in a strong position on an isolated hill;
its massive walls yet compassed it about. On arriving at the gate he
found himself unexpectedly challenged by armed men, who, though
Italians, he at once suspected to be in the Gothic service. A
moment's hesitancy in replying to the questions, 'Whence?' and
'Whither?' sufficed to put him under arrest. He was led to the
captain, in whom with relief he recognised Venantius of Nuceria. His
doubts being at an end, for he knew that this Roman noble had long
since openly joined Totila, he begged that Venantius would hear him
in private, and this being granted, began by telling in whose
service he was.
'I thought I somehow remembered your face,' said the captain, whose
look seemed to add that the face did not particularly please him.
'And where is the lord Marcian?'
'In Rome, Illustrious.'
'You have come straight from Rome, then?'
The answer was affirmative and boldly given.
'And whither are you bound? On what business?'
Sagaris, still obeying his master's injunctions, declared that he
carried a verbal message to the King of the Goths, and for him
alone.
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