Wherever he passed, the Huns cheered and called his name.
The folk of the capital was especially happy. The space between the tents, where on normal days women and slaves rushed to srot out their tiny everyday problems, where the old sat or wanton children played, and learned how to use the sword and the bow while playing, now it was all free ; scavanged with besoms and covered with leafs; all the way Attila and his attendance got by to the glorious tent-palace.
This time the celebration was not only hold for the homecoming king and army, but Attila was going to marry.
Queen Réka rested in the forest of Rika at this time, her peace guarded by oaks, fountains and deers.
The arrival of the new wife was a great festivity, festivity it was the bridal either.
It was noon and the king's palace was full of folks celebrating. The floor was covered with scrumptious carpets, the wooden pillars with beautiful framework were entwined with flowers.
A mass of slaves served the food on golden and silver dishes, and placed them on golden and siver plates in front of the guests, and they filled the wine with a deep bow into the golden and silver pots.
In the middle of the gorgeous dressed crowd, a bit higher than the others, at a separate table, there sat Attila, king of the huns and his new bride. he watched the feast, which got more and more happy, with a calm and mighty face of a real emperor. This was not the only thing sign that made him different; he was dressed else than the crowd in their best clothes, he wore pure, ancestral hunnian clothes and had wooden pot and wooden plate in front of himself. He always had it like this, he did not want to make the gods angry with sumptuousness.
It was late night, when the king together with his new wife, mikolt withdrew to the inner house. And it was almost dawn, when the bridal party got quite, too.
But bitter sadness it was, when the huns woke up, Attila, the lash of God died on his weddingbed. He who did not fear any enemy on Earth, who survived so many bloody battles, of whom it was told that no weapon could harm him, he died. his blood floating from his nose it was what choked him. the young bride when realising what happened, ran out screaming from the tent, and wherever she passed, screaming and crying was in her path.
The whole nation of the huns turned into deep bereavement. The men cut their faces with knives and the women took their white clothes; the white was the colour of mourning.
Torda, the chief magician ordered the men to lead a white horse to the ground for acrafices. They need to know it from the Warlord how to bury Attila the most worthy.
when he rreturned from the forest, where the smoke of the sacrifice flew high, every eye pointed on him.
The Old Magician said:
Our Lord shall rest in peace
Under water, under earth he shall wear his fleece
In blinding sun , in pallid moonlight
And at third in the dark night
Beside him shall lie his horse
Weapons defending him from any curse
Followed by fellow servants beside
And at last his beautiful bride
And so it happened.
Not far away from the capital of Attila flow the Tisia. One arm of it was closed down and hundred slaves digged the hole into the empty river bed. Afterwards the dead king's body was put into a fine gold coffin, they put the golden coffin into a silver one and that into an iron coffin.
Into the deep tomb the huns placed his favourite stallion, his weapons and lots of treasures.
At last with the slaves who digged the grave mikolt was laid beside Attila.
Then they let the river free again and all the returning guards who knew where he lies, they all were killed before they could talk to anybody.
More than 1500 years have passed by since. Folks came and went between the Danube and the Tisza. The legend og King Attila captured the mind of many. many searched where his tomb could lie, much more guessed the place of the treasure.
But Attila still lies on the river bed.
[Translated from Attila halála by Daniel Dalicsek on 21/09/2007-23/09/2007]
Not far away from the capital of Attila flow the Tisia. One arm of it was closed down and hundred slaves digged the hole into the empty river bed. Afterwards the dead king's body was put into a fine gold coffin, they put the golden coffin into a silver one and that into an iron coffin.
Into the deep tomb the huns placed his favourite stallion, his weapons and lots of treasures.
At last with the slaves who digged the grave mikolt was laid beside Attila.
Then they let the river free again and all the returning guards who knew where he lies, they all were killed before they could talk to anybody.
More than 1500 years have passed by since. Folks came and went between the Danube and the Tisza. The legend og King Attila captured the mind of many. many searched where his tomb could lie, much more guessed the place of the treasure.
But Attila still lies on the river bed.
[Translated from Attila halála by Daniel Dalicsek on 21/09/2007-23/09/2007]
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