The Scourge of God

I touched Skilla’s arm, stopping him and his horse. “Listen. I want you to promise to care for Ilana and take her far away from this place, far from all these armies.”

“What?” He looked at me in confusion.

“Attila is not going to let us go. You know that. But he may let you go, with Ilana, if I offer myself as konoss. My life and the sword in recompense for the fire at his palace, in return for yours and Ilana’s.”

He looked at me in disbelief. “I did not bring you here to die, Roman. If I wanted that, I’d kill you myself.”

“It’s not what you want but what Attila wants. Think!

This is Ilana’s only chance-to be given to you. Attila will expect you to marry her and serve him. But give me your word you’ll slip away from this madness so she can live a normal life. You’ve seen the Empire, Skilla. Live with her within it.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “You never understand a thing, Roman! I’ve seen your Empire and I don’t like it! Too many people, too many possessions, too many laws!”

“But it’s her world. She’ll never be happy in yours. You know this, and you must accept it. This is what you must promise, if I give myself as konoss.”

“And if I don’t?”

I reached behind my back to loosen the big sword, lifting it clear and laying it across the front of my saddle. “Then I will die trying to kill Attila, Ilana will probably perish, and you yourself will be crucified for bringing me to his tent.” He shook his head in disgust, troubled by my proposal, and it occurred to me that perhaps he felt fellowship for me as I felt for him: that perhaps he had sought me out on the battlefield not just from calculation but from loneliness. It’s also unlikely he fully trusted me. But finally he shrugged.

“Very well, sacrifice yourself. I will go wherever Ilana asks me to take her.”

“Thank you.” I gave a slight bow, strangely content. All my diplomacy had led to catastrophic slaughter, and all my efforts to free Ilana had led to her being imprisoned more hopelessly than ever. Bargaining my own life, after the sacrifice of so many others, felt oddly liberating.

I’d expected, however, some degree of surprise and gratitude. Instead, he seemed to regard me with irritated impatience. “Just don’t kill yourself until we get Ilana.” We rode the last few yards and dismounted. How bizarre this reunion with Attila seemed! Here I was, a lone Roman amid thousands of Huns after the worst battle on Earth. Men clustered around us like sniffing dogs. One, with a bloody bandage, looked particularly familiar and I peered closer. It was Eudoxius, the Greek doctor! Here he was, in the army he’d dreamed of, and his old nemesis Aetius might crush him at any moment. He recognized me, too, and his look was one of loathing.

Not just Ilana but a dozen beautifully dressed women were linked with light chains to the pyre, awake now and looking frightened. Attila’s lust for conquest had led his people to disaster, and if he must die he wanted to bring those closest to him down with him.

Ilana herself was looking at Skilla and me with wonder.

She’d come groggily awake at the noise of our approach, and then her eyes had widened with recognition in the growing morning light. She seemed bewildered by our apparent partnership: We stood together as allies, both of us spattered with dried blood and grimed with the filth of combat. Then she saw the sword and her eyes clouded. I knew she wanted Roman victory, and revenge on Attila, more than her own life.

The kagan erupted from his tent.

If the Scourge of God had slept at all, it was in the battle mail and animal skins of yesterday, spotted with the gore of his enemies. His hair was wild and stringy, his thin beard grizzled, and his piercing eyes rimmed and red from worry, or lack of sleep. I was shocked and I think Skilla was, too: Attila seemed to have aged a decade since I’d seen him, and perhaps a decade in a day.

“You!” he cried, and I confess I jumped. I’d seen him wield power too often. But now he looked as if the shock of this battle had thrown him from the mount of reason. Never had so many Huns died so quickly. Never had Attila retired from a battlefield, victory not in his grasp. Now he was hunched behind his wagons, waiting for Aetius to finish destroying him. I hadn’t realized until this moment how decisively the Romans had won. The kagan’s spirit had been broken.

I lifted the sword for him to see. “I come from Aetius, kagan.”

He looked at me suspiciously, but instantly native crafti-ness replaced surprise. “He wants to parley?”

“No, I do.” I pointed at Ilana. “That woman is blameless for what happened in Hunuguri; I stole her from your compound, took your sword, and set the fire. Her only sin was to be kidnapped by me. I’ve come to offer konoss. I’ve brought you back the sword and for her life I offer myself. Kill me, but let the woman go.”

Attila’s eyes narrowed. He turned to Skilla. “What is your role in this?”