"I know not how that may be," replied the king: "thy life is dear to me, youth; and were a Roman now to show himself in the land of the Huns, without protection and support, except, indeed, as a captive, the stream of his days would soon fall into the great gulf of death."
"If thou takest me on," cried Theodore, "to witness the murder of my fellow-countrymen, the ruin and devastation of my native land, thou slayest me by a worse death than any of thy people can inflict."
"Well, thou shalt go back," replied Attila; "but I will send people with thee, to protect thee in my name, till thou art known and in safety in the land. I cannot spare thee, Edicon; but he shall choose others who can speak some of the languages thou knowest: ours thou wilt soon learn. Follow me until this night be over; to-morrow thou shalt depart. See to his repose, Edicon, and find him wherewithal to cover him from the night air. These Romans are not, as we are, familiar with the elements."
Edicon smiled; and Theodore felt the scorn which had fallen upon his nation; but he replied not, for the reproach was too true; and, retiring from the presence of Attila, he felt his heart relieved at the certainty of being no longer forced to contemplate with his own eyes all the horrors that awaited his native land.
In their eager and fiery course towards the destruction of the Roman empire, the Huns knew no pause, lingered for no repose. Ere noon, Viminacium was a heap of ashes; ere two hours more had passed, the division of their plunder had taken place; and, ere another had gone by, the unwearied myriads were again upon their way, to repeat the same scenes of slaughter and destruction. At nightfall they halted. The innumerable small wagons, which followed them with a celerity quite marvellous, formed at once the ramparts of their principal camp and the abode of such as were affected by some touch of softer manners. In the centre of the camp was raised the standard of the king, the rude black eagle crowned;[[6]] and round it, at the distance of about a hundred cubits, was drawn an inner circle of wagons; but in the clear and starry nights of summer, no tent or awning covered the head of Attila; and beneath that victorious banner, which he carried unchecked from Caucasus to Gaul, he lay stretched upon the hide of a wild bull, which his own hand had slain.
Round about the great camp were a number of smaller enclosures; some appropriated to different tribes and nations, who followed the multitude of the Huns in their career of victory and pillage; some assigned to various friends and officers of the great monarch himself. Nevertheless, the warrior horsemen of that innumerable host did not confine themselves, where they feared no attack, to the circle of their encampment, but, spreading over the plain around, spent the early hours of the night in feasting and revelry.
Theodore, with Edicon, who showed for him on all occasions kindness and consideration, which was little to be expected from one of so barbarous a race, followed full half an hour behind the general march of the army, in order to avoid those sights of occasional violence and cruelty which were sure to take place, even in the thinly-peopled part of the country which they now traversed. When they reached the spot, therefore, on which Attila had fixed for his encampment, night had already fallen; and for several miles around were to be seen blazing up a countless number of fires, with scarcely fifty yards from the one to the other, and with a circle of those wild soldiers surrounding and carousing about each. Little was the attention which they paid to the new-comers, as they rode through the midst of them; and Edicon, by frequently stopping to speak to those he knew, gave his companion a full insight into the habits of that roving people. We must not pause thereon, for this is not intended for a book of description; and yet it was a wild, strange scene that he beheld, full of matter of disgust and sorrow, and yet not without interest either. There all the vices of a savage state were displayed; while some peculiar virtues, and some of those strong enthusiasms which, though not virtues, find chords of sympathy in every noble heart, broke forth from time to time, and shed a lustre over the mingled whole.
At some of the fires, reclining or sitting in grotesque or picturesque attitudes, lay groups of the wild Scythians, in their strange but striking dresses, drinking deep of various liquors, which they had either compounded or plundered; and in the eyes of many the fiery gleam of intemperance was already shining, while with hoarse laughter and savage gesticulation they detailed the deeds of the day or mocked the agonies of their victims. Round other fires, again, gaming, with the same eagerness, the same loud words and fierce anxieties, so often to be found disgracing the capitals of civilized lands, might be observed other bodies of barbarians moved by another class of passions. Then, again, farther on, gazing with eager eyes, or listening with acute ears, and answering with bursts of thoughtless merriment, sat other bodies of the Huns, around some buffoon or jester,[[7]] in whose tale, or whose joke, or whose antic contortions their whole thoughts seemed to be engaged, forgetful of the bloody yesterday, unmindful of the bloody morrow. Farther still rose up the voice of song; and, in notes not unmelodious, some native minstrel sung of love and war; praised the beauties of some honoured fair, or extolled the valour of some mighty chief. There, too, around him might be seen, the dark countenances of those swarthy children of the North, moved by all the deep emotions which his song touched through the fine chords of association. There the youth leaned back; and, as he listened to the name of love, or heard the glowing words which painted some fair creation of the singer's mind, memory turned towards his native home, affection held up before his eyes the image of the one beloved, and his heart beat with eager palpitations at the gentler and the sweeter thoughts poured into his rude breast. There, too, might be seen the elder and the sterner soldier, who, when the song took up the tale of war, and told of things achieved by glorious courage, lands conquered, thrones acquired, and everlasting glory won, would half start from his grassy bed, and, resting on his arm, gaze with flashing eyes and stirred up enthusiasms upon the singer, and, with fond anticipations of the future, promise his own heart the glorious meed of deeds recorded in a song like that. Oh, beautiful, universal nature! noble feelings! touching harmonies of the musical heart of man! why, why among you must be thrown so many discords to bring out your sweetness? Why can we not have on earth the perfect harmony? where, from the lowest to the highest, from the most solemn to the gayest note, all may find place, and rise in one grand, all-comprising anthem to the God of all?[7]