The Eighth Tribe, 1981 (8. évfolyam, 1-12. szám)
1981-05-01 / 5. szám
May, 1981 THE EIGHTH TRIBE Page 7 lion with the diamond studded saddle and the goldembroidered blanket. Atilla leaped into the saddle, reaching down he helped Mikolt into the saddle, too. Four Roman slave girls raised a small golden table up to them, with a golden cup of fresh spring water and a golden plate of bread and salt. They both drank from the cup and ate from the bread. Then the oldest TÁLTOS stepped forward and gave the newlyweds his blessing. “Thou hast eaten from one plate and drunk of one cup in the sight of UR, our God, and in the sight of the nation. Atilla and Mikolt, only death can part you!” In the huge ceremonial tent, long tables were set, loaded with golden plates and cups. Seated along the ables were the heads of the Hun elans, celebrating the wedding. One hundred hostage kings served the feast. Outside, a hundred oxen roasted on huge spits for the benefit of all the Huns, as the night fell, hundreds of bonfires lit up the sky. At midnight, a hundred young warriors escorted Atilla and Mikolt over to their marriage tent. With burning torches in their hands they formed a wall of fire around the tent all night, in order to prevent ARMANY, the spirit of evil, from entering the tent. In spite of their vigil, it was an evil night for the Huns. About daybreak, the solemn quietness of the night was suddenly broken by the desperate screams of the new bride. The guards rushed into the tent, and found their king. Atilla, ruler of the world, dead. The hero of thousands of battles, whom neither sword nor arrow could harm, had died in bis sleep, from a bleeding nose. His own blood had killed him. At sunrise, the RABOKBAN blew into his horn. “Bring a hundred unbroken white stallions for the great offering!"
