Читать книгу The Darkness and the Dawn - Thomas B. Costain - Страница 22

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Attila wakened at dawn. He had a great dread of the dark and it was his custom to have a lighted torch beside his bed. At regular intervals during the night a servant would come in to make sure it was still burning. But this time there had been a slip. He awakened in complete darkness and lay in bed for several moments without stirring, wondering what had happened.

Black Scyles had heard the first signs of life in the royal bed and now made his way up the steps. He carried a goblet of hot milk. Attila quaffed the milk in quick gulps.

The ebony countenance of Black Scyles was stretched wide in a gratified smile. “I broke the head of that one with a single blow,” he boasted. “He was dead, that bad man, before he reached the floor.”

“You did well,” said the Hun ruler. “There will be a reward for you.”

The royal cook had been promised rewards before but none of them had ever been received. It would be the same this time; still, he was glad that the terrible master was pleased.

Giso heard the sound of voices in the bedchamber and put in a prompt appearance. Attila grunted at him. “Onegesius. I want him.”

“The ever watchful Onegesius, as it happens, is a late sleeper. He is not like you, master, who wakes up with the sun—with a head full of schemes.” Giso motioned in the direction of the great hall below. “Perhaps he’s down there. Many of them drank too much and went to sleep on the floor.”

He walked to the curtain and drew aside a corner of it in order to survey the scene. He began to count, a twitch of scorn on his lips. “Twenty-three,” he announced. “Faugh! How they snore!” His eyes darted quickly over the bodies of Hun officers sleeping off their potions on the rushes like pigs in a sty. “Onegesius is there. And he seems to be in very bad company. His two closest companions belong to the lucky eight. His head is cradled on the broad morass of warm suet which Nonnus from Burgundy calls his stomach. His feet rest on the bony countenance of Menalippe the Goth. I will go down and rouse him.”

He clumped loudly down the steps. They heard a sound of splashing water below and in a few moments Onegesius joined them. He was soaked from head to foot but his eyes were still heavy with sleep. Attila snapped one palm against the other and both Giso and Black Scyles disappeared.

“I have work for you,” said Attila. He lowered his small feet to the floor and began to don his clothes with swift and careless movements. “An embassy must set out at once for Rome. Select three of our ablest men, all of whom must be well known to the Romans. They are to go direct to the emperor and demand at once the person of my promised wife, the Princess Honoria. They must demand also that I receive with her one half of all the dominions of Rome which are rightly hers by inheritance. The emperor will refuse both demands, of course, with great indignation; and I shall have a perfect pretext for going to war.”

Onegesius had listened in a state of amazement and mental confusion. “I do not understand, Great Tanjou,” he said. “You say Princess Honoria is your promised bride? I have heard nothing of such an arrangement.”

“It is a matter of a few hours only,” explained Attila. He held up the ring. “There it is: the pledge of her understanding and agreement. She sent an envoy to me, the man Hyacinthus who came in the train of Micca, disguised as a seller of linens and silks. She promises her hand in marriage if I can recover for her the liberty which has been taken from her and the honors of which she has been robbed.”

Onegesius was still bewildered. “The last word heard of the princess,” he said, “she was to be married to some convenient old cuckold in Rome. As for her inheritance, she has little or none. There are no lands she can claim under the Laws of the Twelve Tables.”

Attila had finished his toilet. “It is your greatest weakness,” he said, “that you are too concerned with facts. The princess has no inheritance of any size to claim. I am well aware of this but it does not prevent me from claiming half of the dominions of Rome. You have been with me long enough, surely, to understand that my policies are based on an understanding of human weaknesses. The greater the lie you tell, the more likely you are to convince people that you are telling the truth. The more absurd the claim you make, the more you will get in the end. These are my rules and it is time you understood them, Onegesius. First, never be guilty of telling the truth if a lie will serve your purpose better; and never be content with a small lie, make it such a resounding one that in the end people will be brought to believe by its very size and audacity. Second, no half measures where claims are concerned. Claim everything at first, even if your grounds are weak; and recede from your initial position very slowly. Do you understand now?”

Onegesius nodded, although it was clear that he was still uncertain about such audacity. “Is it your intention, then,” he asked, “to take the princess as your wife?”

It was Attila’s turn to express uncertainty. “I am not sure,” he said. “It may be sufficient to demand her hand in marriage, a claim which the Emperor Valentinian will reject with scorn. If it should come about that marriage with her would strengthen my hand, I would most decidedly take her as a wife. It would be a distasteful matter for me.” He looked questioningly at his assistant. “Do you not see advantages for me in marrying a princess of the imperial Roman family?”

“I see a disadvantage,” declared Onegesius, shocked into honesty by the nature of Attila’s stand. “You have always demanded virginity in your wives. Do you intend now to wed a woman who is notorious for her loss of inexperience? Do you not fear that the world will laugh at you for accepting such a wanton bride?”

Attila raised both arms in the air in sheer exasperation. “You have heard nothing, you have learned nothing. If I found it necessary to marry this woman of easy consent, I would have a story to tell which would make the world believe her a woman of spotless purity.” He lowered one arm and pointed a finger triumphantly at his assistant. “I have the story ready now. I will announce to the world that Honoria has been the victim of her brother’s greed. As an excuse to seize all her honors and lands, he invented the story of her dalliance with the household officer. To make the first lie hold, he now systematically spreads stories of her continued wantonness. Tell that to the world loud enough and often enough,” cried Attila, triumphantly, “and in time the Emperor Valentinian himself will be wondering if it is not true after all.”

Onegesius was beginning to understand and admire his master’s philosophy. “Perhaps your story is the truth,” he said.

“Perhaps it is. How do we know?”

“When, O Great Tanjou, do you want the embassy to start?”

“Tonight,” said Attila. “At the same time, send word to Constantinople, and to all other courts of any importance, of the claims we are pressing on that vicious simpleton, the emperor of Rome.”