Then Eslaw, the chief of the envoys of King Ruas the Hun, made known his master’s demands So much land, so much treasure, so much in the way of concession and power over the lands along the Danube, or Ruas the king would sweep down with his warriors, and lay waste the cities and lands of the empire.
“These be bold words,” said Anthemius the prefect. “And what if our lord the emperor shall say thee nay?”
But ere the chief of the envoys could reply, the lad whose presence in the escort the Princess Pulcheria had noted, sprang into the circle before the throne, brandishing his long spear in hot defiance.
“Dogs and children of dogs, ye dare not say us nay!” he cried harshly. “Except we be made the friends and allies of the emperor, and are given full store of southern gold and treasure, Ruas the king shall overturn these your palaces, and make you all captives and slaves. It shall be war between you and us forever. Thus saith my spear!”
And as he spoke he dashed his long spear upon the floor, until the mosaic pavement rang again.
Boy emperor and princesses, prefect and nobles and imperial guards, sprang to their feet as the spear clashed on the pavement, and even the barbarian envoys, while they smiled grimly at their young comrade’s energy, pulled him hastily back.
But ere the prefect Anthemius could sufficiently master his astonishment to reply, the young Princess Pulcheria faced the savage envoys, and pointing to the cause of the disturbance, asked calmly:
“Who is this brawling boy, and what doth he here in the palace of the emperor?”
And the boy made instant and defiant answer:
“I am Attila, the son of Mundzuk, kinsman to Ruas the king, and deadly foe to Rome.”
“Good Anthemius,” said the clear, calm voice of the unterrified girl, “were it not wise to tell this wild young prince from the northern forest that the great emperor hath gold for his friends, but only iron for his foes? ‘T is ever better to be friend than foe. Bid, I pray, that the arras of the Hippodrome be parted, and let our guests see the might and power of our arms.”
With a look of pleased surprise at this bold stroke of the Princess, the prefect clapped his hands in command, and the heavily brocaded curtain that screened the gilded columns parted as if by unseen hands, and the Hunnish envoys, with a gaze of stolid wonder, looked down upon the great Hippodrome of Constantinople.