I was just coming in for another jug when a loud clap brought me to an abrupt halt. The laughter in the hall ceased instantly. A silence followed, and then Attila gave an order concerning the dwarf, and one of his officers jumped to his feet and escorted him roughly from the hall. Then the entire assembly stood up. The other serving women, I noted, were rushing to carry the tables away, though the remains on some suggested that not all the guests had finished eating. I hurried to join them. As I passed Attila, I saw that his tray was still on his lap, and I wondered whether it was my place to remove it. Fortunately, before I could decide, Attila lifted it himself and set in down on one of the tables that two servants were passing by with. Meanwhile, the guests formed a line, each of them prostrating him or herself before exiting.
Edeco, who had gone to open the bower curtain to admit one of Attila’s wives, was the last to join the leave-takers. While he was waiting for his turn to prostrate himself before his master, he caught my eye and gave me a look which could have only meant that I had somehow disappointed him.
I looked away and began to remove the food bowls from the tables, thinking that they should now have to be wiped clean. But when all the bowls had been stacked on the long table, the Hun girl touched my wrist and jerked her head to indicate that it was time for us to leave as well. Except for the two old women who stayed behind to take charge of the final clean-up, the servants went forward together to prostrate themselves.
I was no sooner out the door than Edeco grabbed my arm and pulled me away from the others. Most of the courtyard crowd was gone now, and those who had not gone were in the process of retreating. Edeco dragged me toward the gates, his face full of anger. When we reached them, he let go of me and shouted, “You did not obey me!”
“You failed to tell me that I should be the one—”
He struck me across the face; the slap was more a show of authority than an actual attempt to hurt me. Nevertheless, I would have cried out from the shock of it if he did not then quickly cover my mouth with his hand. He looked about himself, as if to see whether he were being watched, but there was something in his eye which made me think that he was disappointed to find that he was not. This interested me no end. “You dared to look into Attila’s eyes while you were serving him,” he cried.
“He startled me,” I cried when he dropped his hand from my mouth. “Forgive me,” I added, fearing that he would slap me again.
He took my arm and we went around Attila’s palisade. He walked briskly, dragging me along. It was dark now, but out in the village a good many men still lingered in groups on horseback. There were also several couples sitting on the grassy knolls, whispering in the moonlight. The couples dwindled as we went farther. By the time we reached the area wherein my hut was located, we saw no one at all.
Edeco seemed as surprised as I was to find that there was no guard posted at my doorway. He pushed me into the hut but stayed outside himself cursing under his breath. A tray of food and wine had been set down for me. In all the excitement, I had forgotten that I’d had nothing to eat since morning. I sat down to it eagerly. After a time, Edeco came in. “The guard has still not come,” he complained. He began to pace, stopping every so often to look outside.
A woman came for my tray, but when she saw that Edeco was within, she bowed and hurried away without it. “I do not understand why my behavior in the hall is so important to you,” I began. “Why should you care? If Attila should use his sword to slice off my head, what would it be to you? You would have one less prisoner to concern yourself with.”
Edeco continued to pace and did not respond. But I was eager to get him talking, for I thought perhaps his behavior indicated that he had something to hide from me and I was determined to find out what it was. “Who was the dwarf?” I asked more casually.
“Zerco,” Edeco answered, still pacing. “He belonged to Bleda once. Now he is Attila’s.”
His response was bitter, but as he had responded, I went on. “It surprises me that such an old man is not treated with more respect.”
He stopped to look at me. “He is no older than Attila. It surprises me that you would think otherwise.” He resumed his pacing. “Zerco’s mind is as crippled as his body. His only function here is to entertain.”
“Attila did not seem much entertained by him.”
Edeco stopped again. “And your function is to serve, not to make observations.”
“One cannot help but observe. Even animals must pause to take in their surroundings. It is a condition of life.”
Edeco stopped pacing for good and stood with his arms folded, looking down at me. “Is it now? Then tell me what other observations you have made here in the City of Attila.”
“I have observed that your manner varies, depending on whether you are alone with me or in the presence of others.”
Before he could respond we heard the guard approaching. Edeco stepped out and spoke to him harshly. The guard’s reply was low and penitent, and I could not make it out. Edeco came back in and closed the curtain behind him. “Then you observe well,” he said.
“May I ask you then why you are sometimes so unkind?”
“You may not,” Edeco snapped. But a moment later he hung his head and mumbled, “You know the answer as well as I.”
I jumped to my feet and thrust myself before him. Though he did not move away, his eyes darted in every direction so that he reminded me of the marmot we had once seen cornered. “Edeco,” I whispered, taking hold of his scarred hand. “We are both Thuets, are we not? And I know—”
“Tell me nothing of what you think you know,” Edeco warned.
I took a step back from him and went on quickly. “Why, Edeco? Is your loyalty to Attila so great that you would feel compelled to betray me? You said nothing to Attila when I told you of the vision I foresaw for your son. Look at me. Look into my eyes and tell me you do not see your own Thuet reflection staring back at you. We are just the same, Edeco! We must play at being Attila’s slaves while we are here in the City of Attila, but we both know that no Thuet can be at peace with himself while he lives within the confines of another man’s walls.”
Edeco grabbed my shoulders, and with his lips pressed together in anger, he shoved me back until I hit the wall. Then he glanced over his shoulder to see if the guard had heard the thump. “Do you hear yourself?” he whispered harshly. “You are sick—sick to imagine that I have any other ambition than to serve Attila. I may be a slave, but I am a rich one. Can you truly imagine that I would give that up for the privilege of calling myself a Thuet again?” He released me roughly. “Your implications disgust me. I never gave you any reason to believe we had such vulgar thoughts in common.” I opened my mouth to protest, but he shouted, “Never!” Then he glanced at the doorway again. “What I could not say to you before,” he went on rapidly, “I find I can say now, in my anger. I cared for you once, Ildico. I hammered Attila to get him to take you on. And now you have—”
“Your mother was a Thuet,” I cried. “And your father. They came down like mine from the cold countries to—”
“I will hear no more from you!”
“And your sons, Edeco.”
“My sons will do well to inherit my riches when I am gone.”
“Your sons are capable of coming by their own riches. That is what I foresaw. If you continue your sham, that is the thing they will inherit, your status as Attila’s fool. You are no more a man than Zerco.”
Edeco leaned into me. “I should kill you now,” he whispered, “but angry as I am, I would likely make it quick. Attila will want to plan something more…”
He broke off and shook his head with disgust. Then, turning, he kicked my tray and sent it flying as he marched out.
10
ALL THAT NIGHT and the next day I waited, even during the brief moments when I managed to doze, for the guards to come and drag me away. But no guard came
for me until evening, and then it was only the same one who had come the night before to escort me to Attila’s gate. As I walked beside the Hun girl through the courtyard—which was empty now except for a few guards and the faces of Attila’s victims still set out like vulgar sentinels before his door—I searched the girl’s face for some sign that she knew that my death was imminent. But if she knew anything, her movements failed to betray it.
Attila was not about yet. We joined the other servants, who were chattering quietly at the long table. When one of the older women handed me Attila’s wooden tray, I breathed a sigh of relief, for it seemed to me that if I were meant to place Attila’s bowl of meat on it, then Edeco could not have said anything to Attila after all. But a moment later it occurred to me that this could be a ruse; from everything I knew about Attila, it would be just like him to wait until I had delivered his tray to strike me down.
Attila entered from the bower. I put the tray aside, and as I was prostrating myself with the others, I glanced at him, looking for some indication that he knew he was in the company of an agitator. He gaze swept over me, sure enough, but it did not linger.
His guests began to file in. Tonight only his sons and some eight or nine of his officers joined him, Edeco among them. I brought Attila his wine cup and relaxed somewhat when I saw him drink from it. He passed it around, and when it came back to him, he said a few words too low for me to hear. The others nodded solemnly in response, and though Edeco nodded too, he kept his eyes on the table, as if he could not bring himself to look up at his master. I brought Attila his dinner tray. It contained the bowl of meat, and a second bowl, of dates, which one of the older women had added at the last minute. When Attila seized my wrist, as he had the previous evening, I was no less startled and I let out a cry. There was a collective gasp, but when he let go of me the next moment and chuckled, his guests chuckled too. The evening went well enough after that, and I decided that I was safe, for Edeco would be considered as much an insurgent as I was if it were known that he had withheld the facts of my sedition for so long.
All that summer and winter, except for the few occasions when Attila went off on some business outside the city, I served him. And by listening to his speeches—which were a prelude to every meal—and to the women with whom I worked, I came to have a fairly good understanding of the Hun language. Furthermore, the women came to accept me as a fellow servant, a boon now that I no longer had Edeco to speak to. Once I asked the Hun girl, who had begun to escort me to the bathhouse in Edeco’s place, to mention to Edeco that I should like to speak to him. But when I saw her next, the girl informed me that he’d said he had nothing to say to me and that I should not send word to him again. On the few occasions when our eyes met inadvertently in Attila’s hall, Edeco quickly looked away. Attila, who seemed to notice nothing but who, in fact, noticed everything, said once to Edeco as he was turning sharply from my glance, “So, friend, I see you have not yet made it up with your Thuet.” Edeco nodded and blushed while the other officers laughed, and I came to understand that in order to be relieved of his duties concerning me, Edeco had made his master to believe that we had been intimate and had a lovers’ quarrel. My affection for him grew then, for I guessed what turmoil his divided loyalties must be causing him.
As for Attila, after my first few evenings in his service, he seemed to take no more notice of me than he did the other servants. Except for the fact that I was still guarded when I was in my hut, I began to see that my life was no different from theirs. We were all Attila’s slaves, and we lived in fear of stirring his wrath, which, I learned, could be done quite easily.
Most of Attila’s anger was directed at his sons, Ernac being the only exception. Ellac, who was the eldest, practically a man, was the one with whom Attila was roughest, for Ellac most often seemed to forget that Attila’s chief desire was for uncontested obedience. On one occasion, for instance, noting that Ellac had not eaten one of his cakes, Attila told him to pass it on to Ernac. Ellac replied, “I was about to eat it myself, Father.” And Attila, who had seemed so calm only a moment before, leaped up from his couch, knocking his tray to the floor, and punched Ellac so hard that he flipped over the back of his chair, his feet upsetting the entire table. Attila hollered for him to get up, but Ellac, who was groaning and holding his face, did not stir. With his own face as red as his couch, Attila walked over to where Ellac lay and kicked him several times—his face, his chest, his back, his genitals—so that I thought surely the young Hun would die. When Attila had released all his anger, he went back to his couch. “Ellac,” he said softly, “now give your cake to your brother.” Ellac’s bruised fingers found the cake, which was lying with the overturned bowls in a puddle of blood, and he crawled to Ernac’s feet with it and held it up. Ernac took it, studied it for a moment, and with his smile turning to a sneer (an expression which made him look much like his father), he rubbed the cake into Ellac’s face. Attila, who seldom laughed, burst out laughing then, and his guests, who had been holding their breath throughout the ordeal, quickly joined him. Later, when I went with the others to clean up the mess, I found several of Ellac’s teeth in it.
Attila slapped his other sons often—though never as violently as Ellac—for everything from dallying over their meals to speaking out of turn. But what was most disturbing was that one could never say when Attila would strike. He was generally quiet during meals, and after he had made his little speech, content to eat his meat and dates (which were the only foods that he would touch) and listen to the others, though he showed no real interest in what they were saying. As one could never tell when he was getting angry, the boys often overstepped their bounds. Sometimes Attila seemed not to notice, or, in any case, not to care. But other times his reactions came swiftly and seemingly out of nowhere. Young Ernac, with his fatuous grin, always gained from these displays, for after Attila had his revenge on whoever had annoyed him, he generally called Ernac to his side and stroked his cheek as if he were some small, furry animal.
Once, in the middle of a meal to which Attila’s wives had been invited, Onegesius, Attila’s first officer, came into the hall holding two Huns by the scruff of their necks. When Attila saw them he jumped up, again without any regard for his tray, and began to admonish them in a fierce voice. The men had been among Attila’s troops when he had last marched, but they had run off and had only just been captured. At first there was much commotion. While Attila was shrieking at them, they were crying out vapid explanations for their desertion. Hereca, meanwhile, who was one of Attila’s wives and the mother of Ellac, rushed to stand in front of the two deserters with her arms spread, for one was her uncle and the other her brother. Attila, who always had the war sword at his side, pushed Hereca out of the way, and with one blow, beheaded both men. For a moment there was no sound or motion in the entire hall save the thump of the bodies and the rolling of the heads on the floor. Then Attila turned to Hereca, the bloodied sword still steaming in his hand and his lips pulled so far back that one could see his molars. Hereca saw what was coming and went down on her knees immediately. There she covered Attila’s feet with her kisses. I could hear her lips smacking all the way from the long table where I was standing with my fist in my mouth for fear of crying out. With the exception of Ellac, who was hiding his face in his hands, every eye was on the war sword, which was throbbing now and dripping blood over Hereca’s head. Then Attila, who looked disgusted by the sight of the woman at his feet, made a decision, nonetheless, in her favor. The sword dropped to his side, and he contented himself instead with kicking Hereca several times while, between her shrieks and groans, she cried out praises and words of thanksgiving. When Attila had enough, he settled himself on his couch and called for more food. This was the cue for his guests to resume their meal and conversations. And thus, with no one daring to acknowledge the heads, the bodies, the spilt food, the river of blood, or Hereca, who lingered on the floor amid it all, the meal commenced.
On anot
her occasion a Hun was brought in who had been accused of fondling one of Attila’s wives. This time Attila took his time about getting up from his couch. He even took the time to place his tray on the floor. In a low voice, he asked the man to hold out the hand he had used to touch his wife. Attila’s look, as he studied the hand, was merely amused. I waited for him to laugh, as he had on other occasions when I had expected worse. But he took a step back from the outstretched hand suddenly and raised his sword. The next thing I saw was the Hun’s hand flying in the air. It landed on one of the tables, in the bowl that Scotta, another of Attila’s officers, had been eating from. While Attila climbed back onto his couch, the man went running out the door screaming and holding his bloody limb. Scotta stared at the hand with his eyes wide, as if he had never seen such a horrible sight. Attila smiled at Scotta, and Scotta quickly adjusted his expression likewise, and, snapping his fingers in the air, called for a new bowl. But then just as everyone began to converse again, Attila leaped up with his sword and threatened to cut off Scotta’s hand if he did not take the Hun’s hand out of his sight.
By early spring, my knowledge of the Hun language was adequate enough to enable me to decipher Attila’s objectives when he made plans to march again. There was a tribe of Huns who were still living independently of Attila near the Black sea. The chieftains among these Huns had been receiving gifts for some time from the rulers of the Eastern Empire, who wanted to buy their allegiance. But one of these chieftains, a man called Curidachus, was at odds with others. Curidachus had sent a messenger to Attila to say that he would vow his allegiance to him if Attila would cut down the other chieftains. Attila, after consulting with his soothsayers, agreed. When the guard failed to come for me a few evenings thereafter, I knew that Attila was already marching.
The Last Wife of Attila the Hun Page 17