Chapter XII: The Purpose of Injustice

It was in a vast hall in the ancient city of Tridentum, hanging over the Adige, where, rushing through the mighty rocks of the Rh[ae]tian Alps, that river pours on to fertilize the plains of Lombardy, that Attila stood alone, on the evening of the day following his meeting with Theodore. He had sent on messengers to demand the peaceful surrender of the city; and he had promised, in simple but direct terms, that if no resistance were shown, no violence should be offered. The citizens, without any means of defence, gladly embraced the chance of safety; and Attila, entering with a few thousand men, occupied the public places and buildings; while the innumerable army that followed him lay encamped upon the mighty hills that sweep up round about the town, and the trembling inhabitants, shut up in their houses, waited in terrified expectation, hoping that the monarch's promise might be kept, but fearing lest it should be broken.

Attila stood alone; and little could he have brooked that any eye should behold the unwonted emotions that then shook his firm unbending nature. To all his host it had become evident, indeed, that since his encounter with [AE]tius a great change had come upon him; that his mind had lost a portion of its mighty calmness; that his strong passions had been gradually triumphing over the powerful intellect which had alone sufficed to rule them. But none had ever beheld him moved as he now was moved; and Attila himself, finding that he was shaken by the tempest within his breast as he had never before suffered himself to be, grew fierce at his own weakness, and added to his own emotions, by his very anger at not being able to suppress them; and yet those emotions were not displayed like the passions of ordinary men.

He stood in that hall alone, and remained for many minutes with his eyes bent sternly on the ground, while over his harsh features passed a thousand shades of varying expression. But his form at first seemed calm; and the only movement perceptible through his whole frame was the clasping and the unclasping of his left hand upon the hilt of his massy sword. At length, however, he broke from that quiescent attitude, and strode quickly up and down the hall, then paused again, and once more gazed upon the marble pavement, enriched by the beautiful art of ancient Rome with a thousand flowers and fruits smiling up out of the cold stone.

But the eye of Attila saw not the rich mosaic over which it wandered; and, after another deep, long pause, he exclaimed, "Why should I not? Is he not my slave, my prisoner? Is not his life and all he has mine own? That which I left to him upon sufferance, can I not resume when I will? By all the gods I will do it! He has had favours enough at my hands already. He may well sacrifice something to gratify Attila!" And again he fell into a fit of musing, which was at length broken by the door of the hall being slowly opened, and Onegisus, one of his most attached chieftains, entering with a cautious and apprehensive step.

"So," said Attila, speaking to himself--"so--so I will do it. I would not see his grief, nor hear his complaints--Ha! Onegisus! What seekest thou?"

"Pardon me, mighty king!" replied the chieftain; "I come from thy son Ellac. He finds not food enough for his troops upon the mountain, and he would fain force these dronish citizens to give up the stores they have concealed from us in their houses."

"Thou meanest he would fain plunder the city," replied Attila, sternly. "But it must not be: Attila has pledged his word. Tell him to seek for food in the valleys, or, if his troops be women, who cannot bear an evening's hunger, let him lead them down into the plains beyond. There shall he find food enough! Yet stay, Onegisus, I would speak with thee on another matter. Ellac was busy at mine ear to-day with the beauty of this maiden, this Roman girl, who, some people say, is to be the bride of Theodore. Thinkest thou," he continued, putting on a tone of indifference--"thinkest thou that Ellac covets her for himself? That cannot be, you know, unless she herself be willing; for I have promised protection both to him and her."

"Not so, oh mighty king!" replied Onegisus, casting down his eyes, and, to speak but truth, appearing pained and embarrassed--"not so: Ellac has but lately taken unto himself a bride, as thou well knowest, and he seeks no other. He did but think that this maiden was too beautiful to be cast away upon a stranger. Perhaps he fancied that she were fair enough even to attract the love of such a king as Attila himself."

"Vain talk!" cried Attila, sharply. "She is very beautiful, it is true--as fair, perhaps, as the eye of man has ever seen--but Attila has other thoughts before him. Conquest! Victory! Onegisus, they shall be the brides of Attila. Bear Ellac my message, and tell Ardaric I would take counsel with him."

Onegisus retired without reply, and Attila remained waiting the coming of Ardaric; but the monarch had, with the words he had spoken, resumed his habitual self-command: the sound of his own voice had recalled him to himself; and no trace of the varying passions which had lately agitated him could now be seen upon his countenance.

But, alas! Attila was not what Attila had been. The firm immoveable nature which he now assumed had then been really his own. He had formerly been what he now appeared. A change, a sad change had come over him since he had fought without conquering. He felt fallen from that height of irresistible power which he had once possessed: he felt irritated at its loss; angry with himself for the very irritation that he felt; and obliged to have recourse to duplicity to conceal the change from himself and others. For that duplicity again he contemned himself, and gave way to many a wilder passion, which had formerly been controlled, in order to relieve his thoughts from irksome contemplation. He conquered almost all external appearances, however; the victory of his internal enemy was within. With him it was like a sudden strife in a banquet hall, where contention raged fiercely in scenes that had once been calm, and where few signs betrayed to those without that fury and wrath struggled within those halls, from the windows of which the lights beamed calmly, except when a passing shadow, flitting rapidly across, told of some violent movement, the nature of which could hardly be divined.

Thus seating himself in an ivory chair that stood at the farther side of the hall, he waited for his friend and counsellor with a calm countenance, playing with the hilt of his sword, and apparently listening to the murmurs of the river as it flowed by the building, and gazing upon the changeful light and shade as it danced upon the blue masses of the opposite mountains.

Ardaric, however, was not long ere he appeared; but it was evident that there was some degree of embarrassment upon his countenance.

"Hast thou seen this new ambassador, my friend?" demanded Attila as soon as he approached. "Hast thou seen this Apollonius?"

"I have, oh king!" replied Ardaric; but there he paused, and spoke no further.

"What said he then?" exclaimed the monarch of the Huns, impatiently. "Why art thou such a niggard of thy words, my friend? What answer gives the puppet on the Eastern throne unto our just demand? What says he to our contract with Theodosius? Has he sent the tribute therein promised?"

"No tribute has he sent, oh Attila!" replied the King of the Gepid[ae], looking suddenly up, as if forced at length to tell unpleasant tidings, and resolved to tell them plainly. "No tribute has he sent, oh Attila! and touching the contract he replies, that it was only between Attila and a monarch that is dead; and that Marcian is not Theodosius. Further, he declares that he will have no talk of tribute; and he bids your own ambassador say, that Marcian has gold for his friends, but steel for his enemies."

Attila had remained with his left hand resting on his sword; but as he heard the bold reply of Marcian to his demands upon the Eastern empire, the long sinewy fingers clasped upon the hilt; and though he uttered not a word, he drew the blade half out of its sheath in the agony of suppressed rage, while his white teeth might be seen shut close together, as if to imprison in his own breast the angry thoughts that struggled vehemently to burst forth. In the meanwhile Ardaric, who had now told the worst, and whose purpose was to sooth rather than to irritate the Hunnish sovereign, hastened to add what he thought might, in some degree, mitigate his wrath. "Nevertheless so, Attila," he said, "though this man's words and actions are bold indeed, yet he is not without that reverence for the fame and might of Attila which all inferior kings must feel; and this ambassador, this Apollonius, is loaded with presents far more costly and splendid than ever were wrung from the weakness of Theodosius."

Attila sprang up from his seat, and grasping firmly the arm of Ardaric, he gazed sternly in his face, exclaiming, "Seek not to sooth me, Ardaric, seek not to restrain my wrath! It is vain! It is unnecessary! The conduct of Attila shall not be governed by rage! Indignation shall have no share therein! Policy shall rule all: my conduct is determined; has been long determined, Ardaric; and thou shalt see that, provoked even to the utmost, Attila can play the lamb till the time be come for him to play the lion! Slaves, ho!" he continued, raising his voice; and instantly a number of attendants rushed into the room, among the first of whom was Zercon, the black jester of his dead brother Bleda.

There was something in the sight that seemed to irritate the king, and, fixing his flashing eyes upon the hump-backed Moor, he cried, "Who bid thee hither? What dost thou, listening to the king's private counsel? Take him away; take the foul, impotent lump away, and strike the eavesdropping ears from off his head! Away with him! Answer not, but let it be done! Thou!" he continued, to one of the attendants who had followed--"thou! Get thee to this ambassador from the East. Tell him that Attila has not time to give attention to such trifling things as the tribute due from Marcian; but, that as soon as he has a moment for lighter affairs and things of no importance, he will see him. In the meantime, let him deliver the presents that he bears unto my officers. Hence! Do my bidding quickly!"

The attendants withdrew without a second warning; and Attila resumed his conversation with Ardaric, who felt not a little relieved to find that the mighty king to whom he had attached himself could still so far govern his rage as to consult the dictates of good policy rather than those impulses of passion to which he had but too frequently given way since his encounter with [AE]tius.

"I have thought over all this, my friend," said Attila, calmly, "since a conversation which I held yesterday with the young Roman, Theodore."

Ardaric marvelled somewhat at the cold epithet which Attila bestowed upon Theodore, whom, during the two or three last years, he had been accustomed to call, not the young Roman, but "my son," or "my adopted son." Nevertheless he was well pleased that the conversation of Theodore had produced such an effect, and he replied, "Thy conduct, oh Attila! shows that you have considered well, and, as ever, have determined wisely."

"I think I have, my friend," replied Attila; "for if I had not, indignation would have trampled upon reason, and I should have been tempted to abandon that in which I am engaged, to tread upon the neck of the dog that thus snarls at my heels. But, as I have told thee, ever since that conversation I have thought over this. The youth, it seems, has known this Marcian for many a year, and tells me that he is, as he shows himself, bold, cautious, and vigilant. Now, though Valentinian and Marcian separately are but as scorpions, on which Attila would set his sandal's sole without a fear, yet the bite of the two might be dangerous, or at least painful. As it is, [AE]tius, possessed of Gaul, and planning to raise himself up there a separate kingdom, looks on not unwillingly while I crush the petty sovereign whom he has long despised and ruled. But if Marcian, joined to Valentinian, were to give the Western emperor a chance of resisting Attila with success, [AE]tius would be obliged to unite his forces to theirs, lest, at an after period, they should march together to punish the rebellious or negligent subject, who left them to struggle unassisted against the mighty power of the Huns."

"Wisely and well hast thou considered all things, oh Attila! I, less politic, had only thought of the union of Marcian with Valentinian as dangerous to us. But if the power of the East and the West were swelled by all the forces of Gaul, armies might be collected which, perchance, we should find to be overwhelming. How, then, oh Attila, do you purpose to deal with Marcian."

"As a skilful fowler, Ardaric, when he approaches his half-sleeping game, coming nearer and nearer while he pretends to be looking and going another way. We will treat his ambassador as if angry, but not enraged past all endurance. We will send him back with messages regarding the tribute, which will seem as if we were more covetous of gold than of honour, and would, perhaps, take a part, if we could not obtain the whole. Thus shall he lull himself with embassies; while we, marching on, sweep Valentinian from the earth, lay Rome in ashes, and scatter the dusty fragments of her once mighty power unto all the quarters of the earth over which her empire in other days extended. Still, as we advance and conquer, as if wholly absorbed in the great undertaking before us, we will make greater and greater concessions to this Marcian, and he, if he be a true Roman, will exact more and more, till at length, with justice on our side and conquest on our sword, our strength united and increased, and our troops fresh from victory, we will pour into the fertile plains of Greece, and, with our free and martial tribes, leave not a trace of any former yoke throughout the land. If my foot shall ever again tread the plains of Thrace, never again, so guard me all the gods who have made me what I am, will I go back one single step so long as one stone of all Byzantium remains upon another!"

He was still going on, when a door at the farther end of the hall opened, and the attendant whom he had sent to the ambassador presented himself. The man paused for a moment, with a pale countenance, as if uncertain whether to advance or not. He was evidently under the influence of terror; but Attila's irritation had subsided while pouring forth his plans into the ear of Ardaric, and he made the attendant a sign to advance, with an expression of countenance which partly reassured him. Hurrying forward, then, he cast himself prostrate at the feet of the king, exclaiming, "How shall I dare, oh mighty Attila, to relate the bold words of the most insolent Roman that ever approached thy presence?"

"Speak, speak!" said Attila: "thou art pardoned, if any pardon be needful, for repeating what it imports the king to hear. Speak! what said the ambassador?"

"His reply, oh king," answered the attendant, looking up, and half doubting the assurances of pardon that he heard--"his reply was, 'Tell Attila the king, that though the time of the servant of Marcian is of less value than the time of the monarch of the Huns, yet the dignity of the emperor must not be trifled with, and his ambassador is not one to sacrifice it. If Attila be willing to see me, let him fix the time and keep it. Hither have I followed him to Tridentum, from the wilds of Upper Dacia, and I will follow no farther, to be a spectacle to his nation or to others. As to the presents, they are of little import; some thirty vases of solid gold, and some caskets of jewels; but, if Attila would have them, he must receive them with his own hands. To him were they sent, and to none other will I deliver them.' Such were his words, oh mighty king," continued the attendant--"I have repeated them truly, and if I have offended, let me die!"

To the surprise of the attendant, and even of Ardaric, something like a grim smile passed over the harsh features of the Hunnish king. "He is a bold knave, this ambassador," he said; "he is a bold knave, and well chosen to do a dangerous embassy! Tell him to get him hence, and take his presents with him! Say also that Attila, though he loves courage, will not bear insolence, and therefore it is he will not see this man. However, he is not willing to lose the friendship of Marcian, who promises to fill the royal seat of the old C[ae]sars more nobly than late monarchs have done, and therefore Attila will send back unto him Theodore, the son of his friend Paulinus, with power to treat of things that concern the friendship of the two nations. He shall accompany the ambassador on his way. Go! tell him the words of the king."

Ardaric, at the mention of the mission of Theodore, suddenly cast down his eyes and bit his lip; and as soon as the attendant had risen from Attila's feet and departed, he exclaimed, "Hear me, oh Attila, and take thought before you determine upon sending this young Roman on such a task to the new emperor. Theodore is bold and faithful, I know it well, and love him truly. But he is one of those who will think his duty to his country superior to aught else on earth. He will reveal to Marcian all your plans and purposes, tell all the secrets of your court, and of the past as far as may affect the future, and think it a duty to caution Marcian against trusting to the semblance of moderation you put on."

"Wouldst thou do so, Ardaric, if thou wert a Roman?" asked Attila, with a smile; and then, before his friend could answer, he added, "Perhaps thou wouldst. In truth, I believe so. But I am prepared against that also, Ardaric. This Theodore has now with him a beautiful--a most lovely girl--his promised bride; and even to-morrow morning he fondly thinks she shall be his. He is mistaken, Ardaric; for I will keep her and her mother here, as sureties for his doing my bidding to the letter--as hostages for his speedy return. However strong may be his wishes to serve his country, be you sure that nature and passion will have its way. What is it that passion will not do? To what will it not blind our eyes? What will it not make us see in things the most different? With this Theodore, it will act to give the fairest colouring to everything that may keep Marcian at peace with Attila, and give him the opportunity of returning speedily to claim his beautiful Dalmatian bride. He will tell no tales, Ardaric! He will give no advice! He will speak no warnings that may raise up an eternal barrier between him and that most lovely woman! He will think he does his duty to his country, and will do it, as far as nature will let him; but passion will still have a voice in the council of his bosom, and make him do his duty unto me!"

Ardaric made no reply, but looked gravely down upon the ground, and Attila fixed his eyes upon him for several moments, as if in surprise at his silence. But there was something in the breast of Attila, a consciousness, a sense of duplicity even towards Ardaric, which made him forbear to question his friend. Attila was afraid to ask why Ardaric replied not! Attila, the mighty, the unconquered, the unconquerable Attila, was cowed by his own heart! Yes, Attila was afraid!