Chapter XIII: The Bitter Disappointment

It was the same hall, but the things within it were changed. It blazed with lights; it was crowded with people; and the leaders of the Hunnish host stood round Attila the King, while in the clear deep tones of command he gave directions for their march on the following day. On his left hand, at some distance from the chair in which he sat, appeared a group in the Roman dress, consisting of Ildica, Ammian, Eudochia, and Theodore, with a number of the household slaves of Flavia, and the barbarian followers of the young Roman gathered together behind them.

Seated in the midst of her children was Flavia, the only person except the monarch who did not stand; but there was the weariness of illness on her face and in her attitude, and the chair she occupied had been looked upon by her and her family as a token of Attila's kind observation.

Suddenly the tones of Attila ceased as he gave his last commands to the leaders round him, and then, after a pause, he exclaimed, "Theodore! Come hither, my son; the king has a duty to impose on thee!"

Theodore gave a bright glance to Ildica, and advanced till he stood before the monarch, his countenance beaming with happy anticipations, and his heart beating high with the glad hope of soon bearing his sweet bride back to their own dear land. But the countenance of Attila was stern and grave; and Ardaric, who stood on his right hand, cast down his eyes as Theodore approached.

"My son," said Attila, "thou art very young, and yet unto thee am I about to intrust a mission on which may depend the lives of millions, the fate of empires, and the destiny of the whole world. The monarch of the East has sent unto me hither a bold and insolent ambassador; and were I to read the feelings of Marcian in the conduct of his messenger, I should instantly employ those arms which carried death and victory to the shores of the [AE]gean Sea not many years ago, to humble the pride and punish the faithlessness of this new emperor. But I have heard what thou canst tell of him--thou who hast known him from thy childhood; and Attila is inclined to respect and love Marcian. Attila may be his friend, if Marcian will; for while he treads upon the worm and struggles with the tiger, he admires the lion and the eagle--kings in their kind like himself. Go, then, to this thy friend: return to him with the ambassador he has sent hither, and tell him the words of Attila. Say, if thou wilt, that on thy report of his great nobleness, Attila desires rather to be at peace than at war with Marcian; and ask what he will do to gain our friendship. It is not the pitiful thought of a few ounces more or less of yellow earth that moves Attila; and if Marcian be poor, let him say so; but justice Attila will have in all things, and his honour and dignity will he defend so long as he has life. Go, then, to Marcian; tell him these things. Tell him what Attila is, and bring us speedily thine answer. If thou usest diligence, thou wilt find us between this and Rome. Seek the envoy from the East, and depart with him. Thou shalt have the train of a prince to honour Attila's mission, and gold to pay thy journey through a sordid land and among a grasping people."

"Willingly, oh Attila!" replied Theodore, "do I accept the charge; and honouring thee, as I do from the depth of my heart, for all the noble deeds that I have seen, and loving thee for all the kind ones thou hast done to me and mine, I will labour with the zeal of true affection to do thy bidding well."

As he spoke, a red flush came over Attila's forehead; and a large vein that wandered through the broad skin of his uncovered temples swelled and wreathed like a snake caught under the fork of a husbandman. Theodore, however, marked not the unwonted emotion, and went on. "Nor do I doubt," he said, "success in my undertaking; for, in the same manner, do I love and honour Marcian for the same noble deeds and the same kindness unto me and mine. I hope, I trust, I think that he loves me too, and therefore do I judge that I, perchance--however young and inexperienced I may be--that I may succeed better than one older and a stranger. Give me but to-morrow for repose, and on the following day I am ready to set out."

"Thanks for thy willingness, my son," replied Attila, "and thanks also for thy love; but thy young limbs scarcely do need repose, and the time thou seekest cannot be afforded thee. By the first ray of light tomorrow morning this insolent ambassador must leave the camp, and thou must go with him on the way."

Theodore's countenance fell. "Alas!" he said, "I have told thee, oh king! that after many a painful year of absence I have found and brought with me my promised bride, one to whom my heart is tied by bonds of old affection, with whom my childish hours were spent, to whom the thoughts of youth have all been given--"Attila made an impatient gesture with his hand. "Thou hast thyself promised, oh king," added Theodore, quickly, "to witness and confirm our union."

"And so I will," answered Attila, sharply, "when thou returnest from the mission on which I send thee."

"Oh, let it be before," exclaimed Theodore, eagerly--"oh, let it be before. I ask but a day, a single day, and then all can go with me to our native land, my bride, my mother, my sister, and her promised husband, Ammian. Once more re-established in peace, in the bright country of our birth, all my hopes will be fulfilled, and--"

"And thou wilt never return to Attila," said the deep voice of the king.

"On my life, on my soul, on my hopes of happiness in this life and hereafter," exclaimed Theodore, vehemently, "I will return if I be in life, ere two months be over, and bring thee an account of my mission and its success."

"It cannot be," said Attila, sternly--"it must not, and it cannot be. Youth, I will not tempt thee by granting thy request. We are all subject to be led astray. Nature is strong within us, is stronger far than all good resolutions; and with thy bride, thy mother, and thy family beneath the shield of Marcian, in thy native land, thou wouldst have strong temptation to remain, and bitter agony of heart to leave them all and come back hither. I say not that the frail thread which bound thee to return would even then be broken; but I say that Attila will never willingly stretch it more than it is formed to bear. Thy mother and thy bride shall stay with me; not as a pledge for thy good faith, for even wert thou to prove faithless, Attila would never injure those beneath his protection; but as inducements to make thy return speedy and joyful. Thy bridal must not be till thou hast seen Marcian and return to me. Attila has said it, and his words are not revoked."

The angry blood rushed up into Theodore's cheek, and his eyes sparkled as few were accustomed to flash in the presence of that mighty and terrible monarch. "Then, oh king," he exclaimed, in a sharp voice, "then, oh king--"

But at that moment a hand was laid upon his arm, and Flavia, anticipating the refusal that was about to burst from his lips, stood by his side, saying, in a low voice, "Go, my son, go! obey the will of the king!" but her interposition seemed to come too late, for the dark thunder cloud of wrath had gathered heavy on the brow of Attila; and while the chieftains near gazed with painful apprehension on the unwonted signs of emotion which he had suffered to appear, he demanded, in a voice that rolled like distant thunder round the hall, "Darest thou dispute the commands of Attila?"

Theodore's eye quailed not, however, under that fierce glance; and, with his spirit all in arms, as it was at that moment, he might have replied with words that would have sealed his fate for ever: but without waiting to hear him speak, Ildica, trembling with apprehension for him she loved, but filled with energetic resolution by that very love itself, glided past him, and kneeling at the feet of Attila, raised her hands towards him in earnest supplication.

"Forgive him, oh mighty king!" she cried, "forgive him! He will go willingly; he will go, and do thy bidding truly and faithfully. I, I will be the hostage for his faith and his obedience. Forgive him, oh forgive him! and let not your great soul be moved by the momentary rashness of one who loves thee well, and will serve thee, as he has served, honestly, truly, bravely, zealously."

The cloud cleared away from the brow of Attila as he gazed upon that beautiful creature kneeling at his feet, and he replied at once, "He is forgiven; let him do our bidding, and return. We will protect thee and thy mother till he comes again, and none shall harm thee. Thou art rash, oh Theodore, and hasty in thy youth; but Attila is great enough to be able to forgive: and, to show thee that thou art quite forgiven, we will grant thee one favour. But yesterday we were told that yon youth, Ammian thou callest him, and the maiden, thy sister, were plighted to each other, and that for his and her sake it was that thou fleddest from Valentinian. Thou thyself must return to seek thy bride and her mother; but, if thou wilt, thy sister, ere the earth be three days older, shall give her hand to him, and follow thee with our presents to the court of Marcian."

Theodore turned with a melancholy smile to Ammian and Eudochia, who, in the anxiety of the moment, had advanced to his side. He saw happiness in the bright eyes of the one and in the blushing, downcast face of the other; and then, looking again towards Attila, he replied, "My bitter disappointment, oh king! shall neither make me selfish nor ungrateful. I receive your offer as a favour, and am thankful for it as such. Let their union take place, oh king, as speedily as may be, and let them join me in Thrace. It will take, at least, from my mind part of the load which bears it down, to see them in peace and security."

"Be it so, then," replied Attila--"be it so. They shall follow thee quickly. Thou knowest thy mission; thou knowest my will. Early to-morrow morning, with thine own attendants and those that I shall send unto thee, thou settest out for Constantinople. So fare thee well upon thy journey! All now may go--Attila seeks rest."

With a sad but calm brow Theodore led Ildica and Flavia from the great hall of the palace of Tridentum to a distant part of the same building, in which a lodging had been assigned to them. Eudochia and Ammian followed; but no one spoke for some time, till at length, when they re-entered the chamber from which they had been summoned to the presence of Attila, Ildica raised her eyes, and gazed sorrowfully in the face of her lover. Flavia, too, paused and looked upon them for a moment with a sad and heavy heart; and then, beckoning to Ammian and Eudochia, she departed, and left the two alone.

Ildica cast herself upon the bosom of Theodore, and they both wept bitterly. "Oh, my Theodore! oh, my beloved!" cried Ildica, as soon as tears would let her.

He pressed her to his heart in silence; but, ere he could find words to reply, the door of the chamber was thrown open by one of the household slaves of Flavia, crying, "One of the barbarian kings, noble Theodore, would speak with you instantly;" and, almost as he spoke, Ardaric entered the chamber. The King of the Gepid[ae] pointed to the door, and the slave, who gazed upon him with some wonder, instantly closed it and retired. Then advancing to Theodore, Ardaric took him in his powerful arms, and pressed him frankly to his bosom.

"Theodore, my brother," he said, speaking the language of the Huns, which Ildica did not understand--"Theodore, I love you well, and grieve for you. We have fought together, and been enemies; we have eaten bread together, and been friends. Our enmity has been wiped out, our friendship never can; and I think that Attila deals hardly with thee. But look to thy fair bride," he continued; "she looks pale and faint: let her go from us; I will not keep thee long; but yet I would fain speak with thee ere thou departest."

"Ildica, my beloved," said Theodore, in the Latin tongue, but speaking slowly, so that Ardaric might hear and comprehend what he said, "this is one of my best and noblest friends. While I am absent, thou mayst trust safely in him. He has something of importance to tell me, and I will seek thee again instantly!"

Ildica made no reply, but retired into the inner chamber to her mother.

"Thou hast spoken truly, my friend," continued Ardaric: "she may trust in me when you are gone! and she may have cause to trust. Attila has dealt hardly with thee, I know not why. I love not to inquire. Let me not wrong him by suspicions; but ever since that fatal battle in Gaul he has been an altered man. Had he been always thus, he would never have reached the height of power he has attained. He has grown more like his brother Bleda, jealous, hasty, intemperate--ay, and deceitful too. He may hide his future purposes from mine eyes, perchance; but Ardaric knows that he is changed, and is upon his guard."

"I see it too," cried Theodore--"I see it too; but even if this change bodes ill to me, what can I do to guard myself against it? What evil, think you, he meditates against me?"

"Nay, I cannot tell," said Ardaric: "I know not, nor will pretend to guess; and as to guarding against it, I can give but one advice--return as speedily as may be. Lose no time; fear not to kill your horses; and as you named two months to Attila himself, be not a single hour beyond that time, as you value happiness and peace."

"But why," exclaimed Theodore, "why think you that his wrath points more particularly to me?"

"I know not well how to answer," replied Ardaric. "When we see a dull gray vapour gathering over the western sky, we say there will be a tempest soon. When we see the light clouds making the mottled heaven look like a dappled steed, we augur it will rain. Light signs forbode heavy storms; and when I see many a changeful variation in the mood of a man once so firm and steadfast, I am apt to augur evil, and to guess where it may fall. Towards you, to whom he was once kind as the spring rain, Attila is now harsh and fierce, and I argue thence that, for some cause, you have lost that favour which shielded you hitherto. But there is another reason why I bid you be upon your guard. You once tarried long, I have heard, in the house of Bleda, the brother of the king, and must have often seen his daughter Neva."

"Often, very often," answered Theodore: "a sweet, devoted, beautiful girl, whose whole happiness seemed to rest in doing good to others. But I injured her not!"

"Thy fate seems of deep interest to her," replied Ardaric, with a passing smile, "for she sought me out this evening as we were encamping on the hills--"

"Is she here, then?" cried Theodore, in surprise.

"Yes, and thousands of others," answered Ardaric: "the camp is full of women. One would guess we were going to people some uncultivated land, for we bear almost all our women and children with us. But Neva is here; for, alas, poor girl, her home is now desolate. Her mother died some few weeks ago. But, as I have said, not only the men of the land, but the women of the land also, have come forth to war."

"Then I shall leave my Ildica," said Theodore, "with a lighter heart. Where there are women, she will find some to pity and console her."

"Many, I trust," answered Ardaric; "but let me tell you, for the time wears, that this fair girl, Bleda's daughter, for whose orphan state my heart has often ached, sought me out this evening, and, calling you 'her brother Theodore,' besought me to aid and to support you against your enemies. Her words were somewhat wild and rambling; but it was evident she had reasons to fear that evil threatened you."

"Upon the journey?" demanded Theodore.

"No, no!" rejoined Ardaric. "I cannot tell you my own suspicions: I must not repeat the words she spoke. We may be both mistaken; and, even were we right, our warning could be of no avail if you neglect to follow the advice I have given. Hasten to Marcian; lose not an hour upon the road; fulfil your mission quickly, and bring back a reply, or good or bad, without delay. Suffer yourself not to be entangled by any one in long discussions; but simply tell your message, receive your answer, and return within the space that you yourself have mentioned. In your absence I will protect, as far as may be, the precious pledges that you leave behind; my wife is in the camp; and though she speaks not their tongue, our hearts, oh Theodore! shall speak for us. Ardaric has some power, and it shall be used for your service. Now fare you well, for I must leave you;" and pressing Theodore once more in his arms, he turned and left the apartment.

The young Roman paused for a moment in deep thought; and then, with a heavy heart, sought those from whom he was to part so soon.