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In the autumn of the 42nd year of the reign of our Emperor Theodosius, we crossed the river Istros and reached the lands of the Huns, seeking peace. When we approached the village where Bleda’s widow lived, a terrible storm came upon us, which destroyed all of our belongings and, being in the middle of the night, we almost lost each other.
Fortunately, we were found by some very hospitable villagers, who lit a reed fire to warm us. They welcomed us into their homes, fed us and, according to local custom, also offered us beautiful girls to keep us company. Upon leaving, we thanked our host, gifting them three silver cups, red leather, pepper from India, and dates, which we knew they greatly appreciated.
Our journey lasted another seven days until we reached a village, where Attila had his biggest palace. The building was entirely made of wood and had several towers. Behind it was the palace of Onegesios, the most influential man among the Huns, second only to Attila, of course. Not far from the fence, I saw a stone building, which, to my great surprise, was a bathhouse built according to the plans of a Roman from Sirmium, who was a prisoner of the Huns.
While waiting to be granted an audience with Attila, someone greeted me with Chaire. I was quite surprised, since I did not expect a barbarian to speak Greek. He told me that, although he had been a prisoner of the Huns, he fought bravely and earned both respect and freedom. Thus, he built his career and despite being free to leave at any moment, he decided to remain among the Huns, since his life was better and freer here. He then married a barbarian woman with whom he had several children. I cannot understand his way of thinking: How could one trade the Roman order for a barbarian life?!
I was invited, along with the envoys of the Western Roman Empire, to partake in Attila’s feast, which was to begin at the ninth hour of the day. We entered the palace, which had imposing halls decorated with carved wooden elements, and were led before Attila. The cupbearers served us goblets, following local customs, and invited us to pray before sitting down. The chairs were placed along the walls in hierarchical order. In the centre, Attila lay on a divan, and, behind him, was his bed, decorated with colourful curtains and raised on a podium. After toasting, the tables were set and everyone could help themselves without leaving their seat. First, Attila’s servant entered with a platter loaded with meat, followed by the other servants, who also offered us meat and bread, as well as other cooked dishes. We were served with silverware, while Attila had a wooden tray and cup. I noticed that he was moderate the entire evening. His clothes were simpler and cleaner than those worn by the others, and his sword and boots were not adorned with gold or precious stones.
Evening fell, and two bards entered, singing about the victories and heroic deeds of the Huns. Some of the guests were enthusiastic, while others shed a tear. The most cheerful moment of the evening was when Zerkon, the jester, entered – a small, hunchbacked, lame Moor with a small, flat nose. He spoke, mixing words from several languages, and it was so amusing we could not stop laughing. Of all of us, only Attila remained solemn. The only moment when his features softened was upon seeing his youngest son. My dining companion, a barbarian who spoke Latin, explained that there is a prophecy that this son will carry on the lineage of the Huns. The party started to heat up and I considered it best to withdraw, for drink clouds the mind and loosens the tongue.