“I do not know what went wrong, Gudrun. Perhaps he saw me pale when he first questioned the Franks. Or perhaps when he questioned me later, I wrung my hands or gave way to some other nervous habit. Anyway, later, when we were out fighting the Romans and the Thuets in the field, it came to Attila’s ears that there were Burgundians about and that the leaders among them, brothers, were called Gunner and Hagen. And he turned to me then, and with a wild gleam in his black eye, he confided that he would like to have the heads of these two Burgundian brothers so that he could be satisfied for once and for all that there was no connection between them and the woman who had brought him the gift of the war sword. I told him that in my opinion we had best concentrate on all our enemies and not seek to single out any two of them. But he cast me a look which was rife with suspicion and shouted, ‘Go and get their heads yourself.’”
Edeco paused. I felt my knees buckling and then my body sinking to the ground. “Go on,” I whispered.
Edeco rode in silence for some moments more. “You see, Gudrun,” he said then, “I was being put to the test too. I had no choice but—” He broke off and hung his head.
All during his speech, Edeco had been riding back and forth. Watching him—and I had watched his every step—I felt calm and empty, as if someone had wrenched my entrails out, leaving me an empty shell. I was glad for the dark, glad I could not see Edeco’s face. Edeco had killed them and I had pretended not to know them. We had both passed Attila’s tests. And for what? I pulled Sagaria’s gem out of my robe and rubbed it over my lips.
“One of the prisoners we had taken identified them, and I found them easily enough. Gunner fought me valiantly, in silence at first, but when he saw whose sword his clashed with, he cried, ‘So it is come to this, Thuet against Thuet.’ And even as I was plunging my blade into his flesh with Attila looking on at some distance, I answered, ‘Thuet against Thuet for now, but perhaps not always. There is a woman among us who strives to find a way to cut Attila down so that Thuets and Thuets can be brothers again.’ He fell back smiling, Gudrun, on my honor. I had no chance to bring peace to your other brother, for while I was fighting him, Orestes appeared out of nowhere and finished him off.”
Edeco rode in silence. He passed me perhaps twenty times more before he spoke again. “I realize that now is not the proper time to tell you about the battle, but as I may not have another opportunity, I will do so. I will make it brief, though there were many details I had hoped to discuss with you. Try to take in what I say. You can make sense of it later—when you feel more yourself.” He waited, as if for some objection, and then went on.
“We marched along the Rhine and many cities fell to us. Attila was very pleased and certain that we would return victorious. But when we reached Orleans, we were driven back by an army as great as any I have ever seen—Romans, Franks, Burgundians, Visigoths. Yes, Gudrun, the Visigoths, the life-long enemies of Aetius, marched with him against us.
“There was much blood spilt on both sides, but still it seemed we were the stronger force. It was during this time that your brothers…were killed. Not long after that, Theodoric, the Visigoth king, was slain. And then the Visigoths went wild with rage and became stronger than men who have long been at battle can possibly be. By the end of the day of Theodoric’s death, Attila began to speak of the possibility of defeat—with great nettle at first, but then, later, with resignation. When night fell, he had us make a circle with our wagons, and those of us who are dearest to him went in with him. He told us to prepare ourselves for death. We were surrounded by the enemy, and, he believed we would eventually be starved out. As for himself, he had a funeral pyre prepared from some of our saddles. His plan was to light it and throw himself on it first thing in the morning so that none of his enemies would have the satisfaction of cutting him down. Then he spoke so eloquently of his life and all that he had done with it that some men cried. And when dawn was nigh, he encouraged each of us to speak of our love for him, so that while we were frantic for our own hides we were forced to invent reasons why we cherished his.
“But when the sun began to rise, we looked out from among the wagons and found that the Visigoths and the Franks had withdrawn and that the Romans had removed themselves to a greater distance. Aetius must have found a way to turn the Thuets for home, and now it was clear that he was inviting us to retreat as well. Why Aetius should have permitted this, I can only wonder. Perhaps he believed that he could find a way to turn his generosity to a greater advantage in the future. I suggested to Attila that Aetius’ mind was perhaps swayed by the power of the war sword, for my own thoughts then were on your future. If Attila has heretofore believed that the war sword was responsible for his good fortune, I said to myself, might he not blame it, and thus Gudrun, now for the bad?
“Being allowed to retreat is a worse disgrace than to go down fighting. But as Attila likes his life as well as any man, he had us prepare to leave. All that long march home, Attila spoke not a single word to anyone. And when we neared the city gates, we had more bad news. As you know, Attila promised Theodosius that he would let go of the lands south of the Danube. But when Theodosius died and Marcian took his place, Attila reclaimed them. When we left to march, Attila left a good many men behind to watch over those lands. The messenger had come to inform us that Marcian’s troops had wiped out most of our forces there and reclaimed the lands for the Eastern Empire. The wonder of it is that Marcian’s troops did not ride here and take the city as well!
“Attila heard this news and then he ordered a guard to ride up to your hut and make sure you were within. I tell you, Gudrun, it frightened me more than I can say to see that his mind would jump to you the instant after he learned that his defeat was even greater than he had imagined. Then, with his eyes on me, he ordered the rest of us to refrain from having anything to do with you under any circumstance until after you had come to the hall and seen the heads of our few victims erected outside it. It was a boon for us that you were late in coming. Attila’s favorite men had already gone in by then. And as I had an order to carry out for him, which I am certain he invented to keep me away, I was not expected. The men you saw me conversing with tonight when I gave you the warning were too far back, I think, to have heard his order. In any case, they made no mention of it when they saw me speak to you. Attila, who sent for me later, has already informed me that he was satisfied by your response—and that confidence leads me to believe that he is no longer suspicious of me, either.
“What he will do now, I cannot guess. Nor do I know whether he still intends to marry you. In the meantime, you can be certain that I will do everything in my power to convince him that there are fortunes yet to be gained by the war sword and from the woman who brought it to him—for I would rather see you married to him than disregarded…or dead.
“I have said all that I wanted to say, Gudrun. The guard whose shift I took—a man who owed me a favor, for I saved his life on the field—should be returning shortly. Sleep now. You will need your strength in the days to come. You must never enter Attila’s hall—or his bed, if it comes to that—with a long face and swollen eyes. You must continue to appear unmoved by the sight in the courtyard. We have come too near to our purpose to make any mistakes.”
As if he thought that I might make some response, Edeco rode on for a time. Then he pulled up his horse and galloped off.
I continued to sit just behind the curtain with my eye fixed on the night.
Sapaudia
16
I HAD THOUGHT my spirit dead during the time when I believed that I had lost Sigurd’s love, but now I know it was only tainted then. It was a weak, black, useless thing to be sure, but still it subsisted. True death came to my spirit when Guthorm came into the bower wielding the sword that had been his birth gift, a sword he had never as much as lifted before. That was the time of true death—though I did not know it until later. For at the moment of my spirit’s passing, I was caught somewhere be
tween sleep and wakefulness, and I lacked the wherewithal even to detect whether Guthorm’s hurling of the sword and Sigurd’s hurling it back again were real events or a part of the dream I felt myself to be verging on. I screamed, yes, but even my anguish seemed illusory. I was more a spectator watching, listening from the gray abyss that we are made to glide through when mindfulness is behind us and sleep is fast approaching. And when I stopped screaming and grew calm, I saw, I suppose, that there was safety within that eerie gorge—that the real and the unreal need not be divided there—and thus I stayed there, dreaming, dead to life or living in death, for a very long time.
All of this is not to say that I became a stranger to my surroundings, for there were moments when I was aware. But again, I took all that I saw and heard to be a part of my dream. Torches were lit in the hall very soon after the tragedy, that I know for certain. I suppose Hagen lit them. And someone came to me—again, probably Hagen—and embraced me long. As far as I know, I did not respond to this embrace. Nor did I hear the words that accompanied it. I merely felt the speaker’s utterances hot against my ear. And then there was a great commotion in the hall, cries and raised voices and footsteps wending in every direction, but I paid them no heed either. More light came—daylight, I think—and with it, more footsteps and voices. I sensed a crowd around me in the bower, but I have no recollection of looking up into their faces.
Then darkness came and then light again, and I was carried into the hall where I saw the two corpses lying side by side, each covered over with a white cloth. I was aware of being surrounded by women, who made me sit beside the corpses. One said, “We have come to cut their nails so that their enemies will not make curses on them.” And later, another said, “She must be made to cry.” Then one of the women lifted the cloth on the smaller corpse and I saw Guthorm’s face. I remember thinking, Ah, how sweet and round his face is, how sweetly he sleeps. Then someone took my chin in her palm and turned my head gently toward the larger corpse. I felt the eyes of the women on me, eager for what, I did not know. Someone snapped back the cloth covering Sigurd’s face. I saw that his lips were, as always, curled at the corners, and I thought, His dreams must be carrying him away to some sweet place. If only I could join him there. And all at once Sigurd and I were walking together in the clearing by the rock-horse, surrounded by birches and sunlight. I saw Guthorm in the distance, and I was about to point him out to Sigurd when I heard a loud shriek, and then I was back in the hall again and Brunhild was flying in my direction. She pushed aside the women surrounding me and threw herself on Sigurd’s corpse. She held his face in her hands and covered it with kisses. I was happy, in my senseless state, to see that he did not respond. Then she lay her head on his chest and wailed. The women gathered around and tried to tear her from him. I longed to say to them, Let her be, she loved him too, but no words emerged from my mouth, and I was pleased on this account too, for it confirmed to me that I was dreaming still.
In spite of her assailants, Brunhild continued to cling to Sigurd. Between sobs she cried, “Forgive me, forgive me. I was born motherless, fatherless. My name I gave myself. I had no home. No food. I stole from the peasants, and when I could not, I feasted on leaves and berries like a beast. I had no one, nothing. I slept in barns in the winter and under the stars when it was warm. I lived for you, for your coming. And then you came, as I knew you would, and swore your love for me. You swore I should never be alone again. It was you. Only you. And now I will follow you, whether it be to Hel or Valhalla.“
Brunhild broke off abruptly. The fingers of the women who would bear her away retreated, and a hush fell over the hall. I looked up and saw Gunner approaching. His aspect was fierce. His lips were pulled back so that his teeth were bared. He took Brunhild’s long hair in his hand and wound it round and round his fingers. Then he yanked, and then Brunhild was gone. There was a thud, then a whimper. Someone’s hand came to rest on my shoulder, but Gunner turned toward me next, and the hand withdrew at once.
Gunner took hold of my arms and jerked me to my feet. He shouted for the others to leave us. There was a swish of robes, then silence. Moments passed before he spoke. Or perhaps moments passed before I began to hear him. “From the beginning she hinted,” he said. “She tormented me. Do you hear me, Gudrun? Your eyes are glazed over. You must hear. You must forgive. The women are saying you are likely to…and if you should die without forgiving me…then the gods will never… Oh, Gudrun, hear me. At night, she looked into my eyes by the light of our candle and said to me, ‘Ah, but that these were Sigurd’s eyes, Sigurd’s lips.’ Then she laughed and said she was jesting, that I made my envy so clear to her that she could not help but…so that I did not know what to think. It was not for the gold, Gudrun. You must believe that. She made me to think that the blood-bond had been broken. She knew I was jealous from the start, and it amused her to see… I thought I should go mad with jealousy—I loved her that much. It was not so much the gold as… And I lied, Gudrun. I knew he would have no part in it unless I asked her directly. I told him I had. I felt I had no choice. The gods wanted me to act. The storm… But then, once he had pledged his loyalty to my aim, I began to have second thoughts. I am a weak man. I feared what would happen to me if it turned out that he had not…what the gods would do… And thus I was loathe to…to do the deed myself. I coached Guthorm. I had no way to know whether or not he would… But I believed that if the gods wanted the deed carried out, they would find a way. Hagen was against it of course, but I told him I’d had a dream, and that the gods appeared to me… Perhaps I did dream… I cannot be sure anymore. My thoughts and my dreams were…are…all of one. Guthorm fell asleep. I took it to be a sign that I was wrong, that I had misinterpreted. But I played out my charade with him, Sigurd, anyway, as I had planned it. I believed that he, if thus incited, might confirm what she had only… And his reaction did seem to confirm… Alone in our bower, I told her. I was desperate that she should comprehend how far her intimations had driven me. I told her everything. But still I could not bring myself to ask her outright. ‘Why not awaken Guthorm and go through with it?’ she said. I answered, once I had recovered from the impact of her words, ‘Because you have not yet convinced me…’ She laughed then. I threatened to kill her. Her reaction had pushed the moment to a climax. I had to know. And laughing still, laughing in my face to see how crazed her insinuations made me, she told me that I had been right, that they had…more details than a man can bear to hear. And all the while her laughter…
“My blood boiled. You are a woman. You cannot understand these things. I was full of hatred, full of… I went into the hall. Guthorm was vomiting… Mother sitting up with him. I went back to the bower. I paced. I heard you get up. I saw you helping. I waited, seething…until you had gone and Mother was asleep again. Then I tiptoed into the hall and brought Guthorm his sword. I prayed to the gods to make their decision. Guthorm awoke. I signaled him to be quiet. I had made him earlier to think that hurling the sword at Sigurd would be a game. I had promised him honey. I could see that he remembered. He had vomited up the wolf and the snake, yes, but some of their essence must have remained, for that boy, that half-wit whom I loved as much as anyone.” Gunner broke off sobbing and let go of one of my arms to cover his face. The arm he clung to hurt and the pain seemed more authentic than the words I dreamed he said.
“He went off to the bower without my saying a word,” Gunner moaned. “I should have said to myself then, ‘The blood-bond has been broken; there is no reason to send the boy.’ But that did not occur to me. My mind was void of logic, void of all…but hatred, jealousy, the image of them together, laughing at me, conspiring…
“I rushed back into the bower and told her that I had set Guthorm on him. She appeared shocked. ‘Take my life, too, then,’ she cried. And the gods know I would have, but then I heard the screams…
“‘He is dead,’ I said, half to myself. She began to tremble. ‘Fool!’ she screamed. ‘The blood-bond was neve
r broken. Sigurd lay his sword between us that night in the cave.’ Her eyes were like torches, burning through me. Then the fire went out of them. She reached for me. She touched my face as if she pitied me. And so comforted was I by her gesture, so great was my need for comfort, that I took her in my arms. But when she saw me soften, she pushed me away and began to laugh again, high-pitched hysterical laughter. My hands found her throat. She was gasping, laughing. Hagen came in. He spoke. I could not hear. He shouted, ‘Guthorm is dead!’ Guthorm was dead. Guthorm was dead… The blood-bond had not been broken and Guthorm was dead.”
Gunner lowered me gently to the floor. He stood above me with his hands spread over his face, heaving, gasping, pulling at his fleshy skin. I thought to tell him that there was no sword between them on that night, but I could not speak. I closed my eyes. I continued to hear him sobbing for a time, and then I drifted away into darkness, thinking, I must tell Gunner, I must tell Gunner. But the darkness became absolute. And then I could not remember what truth it was that I must tell.
Then we were all outside. I do not know whether this was the same day or one after. As in a real dream, events seemed to occur separately, isolated from those that came before or went after. Surely other things happened in between, other words were said to me, but of these I have no recollection. Most of the time my dream was a dream of darkness, of shadows and whispers which made no sense.
The Last Wife of Attila the Hun Page 30