Explore "The Death of the Gods" by Dmitri Sergeyevich Merezhkovsky on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
At sunrise they saw the Persians. The enemy was advancing slowly. Experienced soldiers estimated their number at nearly two hundred thousand. Hill after hill unmasked new bodies of men, and the glittering of the arms on these detachments, in spite of distance and dust, was almost dazzlingly bright. The Romans, with hardly a word in the ranks, left the valley of the previous night and ranged themselves in battle-order. Their faces were stern, but not sad. Danger now stifled their hatred, and all looks were fixed upon the Emperor, Christians as well as Pagans seeking to surmise from his expression whether they might still hope for success.
At that hour Julian was beaming with joy. Long, long, had he awaited this encounter with the Persians, awaited the miracle in which victory would give him such renown and power that the Galileans could no longer resist. He was haughty as one of the old heroes of Hellas. Danger seemed to spiritualise him; and a gay and terrible light was in his eyes.