JUST AFTER DAWN the sound of horns woke those who had managed to sleep. Warriors scrambled out of their tents and gathered their equipment. Some chewed scraps of stale bread but most did not have the stomach for eating and made do with water. The meekest were terrified at the thought of the coming battle while the hardest and most experienced were gruff and short-tempered. Everyone’s nerves were on edge.
Hagan felt a strange sense of unreality as he watched the warriors form up at the edge of the Burgundar camp. Across the hillside the Romans and their other allies were all doing the same in their own encampments. It was a beautiful morning with not a cloud in the sky. The air was already full of the perfume of lavender and other aromatic trees and shrubs. Insects buzzed around. It was odd to think he might be living the last moments of his life.
Would there be another life after death? Was there a heaven? If so, would he get there? Would there be endless life in green fields like the Romans believed, or would he go under the earth to the misty realm his forefathers had believed in?
Signalled by other blasts of Roman horns, the war horde of the Alliance mounted their horses and began filing out of their camps. Everyone apart from the Roman soldiers would ride to the battle then, if they were to fight on foot, dismount and take their positions.
Gunderic stood before his warriors.
‘Men,’ he said in a commanding voice, ‘today we fight for the honour of our people. Some of you will not be happy that we fight as part of a Roman army – the people who slaughtered our folk at Vorbetomagus. But I ask you to put that from your minds. We fight for our kin today. The men who fight by your side are blood of your own blood – your clan folk. We are all sons and grandsons of the Burgundars who the Huns slaughtered, whose blood now cries out for vengeance! Today is the day we take that revenge.’
Hagan listened with bitterness in his heart as Gunderic continued. His speech was full of noble words and fine sentiments as he told the warriors how they would win glory today for the honour of the folk, but Hagan was unable to stop his upper lip rising in a sneer.
Gunderic had decided to stay with Aetius during the battle rather than lead his warriors in person. Hagan thought of the men of the Berh Herjass, supposedly the best of Gunderic’s warriors, sacrificed by being placed in a dangerous position just to put Hagan in the same position, and that just to protect Gunderic’s reputation and his treasure.
He thought of Geic, swinging from the gallows, his reputation blackened forever by a lie.
Hagan knew he could probably run away but he would not. Unlike his king he would bear his responsibilities and fight alongside his own folk.
As the Burgundars began to move out of the camp they were joined by Brynhild’s Valkyrjur cavalry. They looked magnificent. Their mail shirts and helmets gleamed in the sun. They held their spears high and their shields were slung across their backs. Each rider’s cloak, black like the Burgundars’, flowed in the breeze behind her like the wings of a raven. Brynhild rode at their head. Hagan was pleased to see her at last. She sat upright in the saddle. Her visored helmet with a raven’s wing nailed to either side shone in the early morning sunlight.
The Valkyrjur joined the Burgundar column and together they lurched downhill towards the flat plains, where the hot summer sun had already bleached the grass to hay.
Attila’s army consisted of many fast-moving mounted archers. The greatest danger with that type of enemy was that they could raid around you and attack the flanks and rear. To counter this threat, as they rode the army of the Alliance divided into two huge columns. The cavalry and foot soldiers of the Visigoths, led by Theodoric and his sons, headed eastwards along the road towards Tricassium. The second column, led by Aetius and consisting of the Romans, Saxons, Alans and Franks, proceeded north-east downhill. Hagan and the rest of the Burgundars went with them. This meant if the Huns tried to ride around one column, they would be exposing their own flanks to the second column.
Once at the bottom of the slope they had rejoined and deployed in the long arc that Aetius had described the night before. The Roman soldiers kept marching beyond everyone else, then turned to form the left wing of the army. Their cavalry formed up behind them in support. Beside the Roman foot soldiers the Franks, Saxons and Burgundars dismounted then spread out to continue the line. Right in the centre were the Alan cavalry. The Visigoths’ foot warriors formed the whole right wing of the army. Their cavalry stood behind them, ready to counter-attack if required.
The leaders of the Alliance gathered on horseback near the centre, behind the Alans. When battle came they would ride to their various positions with their own men but until then they sat watching the plains before them, surveying their troops and issuing the occasional order to messengers who relayed them to the intended recipients. Hagan was with this group. Gunderic had insisted he stay close by and had assigned several warriors to ensure he did not wander off.
‘So here we all are,’ Aetius said, ‘Now all we need is someone to fight.’
There was no sign of the Hun army. Far away, on the opposite side of the plains, Attila’s camp was still there, its edge marked out by the line of wagons, but his warriors remained inside it.
They watched and waited. The sun rose ever higher and got hotter. Soon everyone, arrayed as they were in their heavy war gear and standing in the open, was sweating. Men began to sit down, hunkering behind their shields to get some shade from the blistering sun.
At one point Aetius sidled up beside Hagan. Still gazing out at the empty grassland before them, he said in a quiet voice as if he were enquiring about the weather, ‘Tell me, did you ever find out anything of what we talked about in Ravenna?’
‘You mean the treasure?’ Hagan said.
Aetius flinched and looked around, checking no one else had heard. Then he nodded, frowning at Hagan’s lack of discretion.
‘Yes, I suppose I have,’ Hagan said.
Aetius nodded again. He gave Hagan a knowing look then casually walked away again.
Now and again there was a flurry of movement and riders burst forth from out of the Hun camp. Every time this happened the warriors of the Alliance got to their feet and made ready for any potential attack. They proved to just be scouts however, and once they had ridden close enough to the Alliance lines to get a good look at them they wheeled their horses and galloped back across the plain to their own camp. The warriors went back to waiting again.
The sun rose towards the middle of the sky. Hagan, feeling his skin starting to burn in the heat, began to wonder if Wodnas’ plan of the previous night had worked. Perhaps Attila was superstitious enough to believe Freya’s fake prophecy and now was too concerned to join battle.
‘What are they waiting for?’ Sigurd said.
Hagan stood a little way off but not too far that he could not hear what the war leaders said. The big man was not the only impatient one. They had all been waiting a long time, and with every moment that passed the sun got hotter and the warriors of the war horde got thirstier, hungrier and more restless.
‘He’s softening us up,’ King Theodoric said. ‘If our warriors stand here much longer in this heat they’ll be too tired and thirsty to put up much of a fight when Attila finally attacks.’
‘Well, if that is what he is planning,’ Aetius said, ‘he did not figure on the organisational skills of the Roman Army. It’s what we are best at, after all. We’ve had centuries of practice, after all.’
The general spoke to one of his aides who hurried off. Soon signal horns blasted and columns of servants and auxiliaries laden with amphorae and baskets came from behind the lines and began making their way through the ranks, doling out water and bread. There was watered-down wine and roasted ducks for the war leaders.
Now the waiting and the heat had turned his initial nervousness to boredom, Hagan, like the others, found himself ravenous and he tucked into the food and drink with passion. Afterwards he felt much better.
When they had finished refreshing themselves it was past midday and there was still no sign of the enemy. Hagan’s heart began to lighten at the thought that perhaps there would be no battle after all.
He looked around, seeing that Wodnas was deep in conversation with Theodoric. After a while they broke off and Wodnas walked back over to rejoin the Burgundars. The king of the Visigoths began speaking to some of his aides, who hurried off in the direction of the Visigoth lines.
‘What were you two conniving about?’ Gunderic said. The sun appeared to be making him tetchy. ‘You’re supposed to be my special advisor, remember?’
‘I was just telling King Theodoric about the special training we have been doing,’ Wodnas said. ‘In preparation for fighting the Huns. I was also remarking how amazing it was that for most of the last twenty years the left and right wings of this army, Theodoric’s Visigoths and Aetius’s Romans, have fought against each other. Now they stand together against a common enemy.’
‘I’m starting to think that the enemy has lost his nerve,’ Aetius said.
As if in response to the Magister Militum’s words, Hagan caught sight of movement at the far end of the plain. Horsemen were filing out of the Hun camp.
‘More scouts, do you think?’ Gunderic said.
More and more kept coming. They spread left and right, forming a long line that stretched across the plain. Before long their formation stretched from one side to the other, mirroring the long battle line of the warriors of the Alliance. The bright sunshine glittered and danced across helmets, spear points and polished mail.
‘Not scouts this time,’ Wodnas said. ‘Attila is coming for battle.’
All signs of relaxation vanished. Horns began blasting. The warriors who had been sitting on the ground jumped to their feet and began readying their arms. Men took up the positions they had been designated, making one last check of their war gear while there was still time.
‘Alright, everyone,’ Aetius said, swinging himself up into the saddle of his horse. ‘It is time to take our positions for battle. May God protect you all and grant us victory. King Sangiban, you should join your men now.’
The king of the Alans, who looked green with nerves, nodded and swallowed. He climbed onto his horse and set off towards the Alan cavalry in the centre of the allied formation.
Satisfied Sangiban had gone, Aetius made the Roman salute, kicked his heels and galloped off in the direction of the Roman lines.
‘God’s blessings on you all,’ Theodoric said, then he and his two sons rode off towards the Visigoth wing of the army.
‘Hagan, it is time you took your new command with the Berh Herjass,’ Gunderic said. ‘Good luck and may Tiwass smile on us all today.’
Hagan just grunted.
‘I will go with you,’ Wodnas said, to Hagan’s surprise. ‘I have something special for them.’